


Wake Me Up

by VorpalGirl



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adopted Children, Alien Invasion, Awkwardness, Bromance to Romance, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Lifestream, M/M, Memories, Memory Loss, Mystery, Other, Post Advent Children, Post Dirge of Cerberus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Memories, Resurrected Zack Fair, Resurrection, Slow Build, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife Friendship, character-driven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VorpalGirl/pseuds/VorpalGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Zack Fair woke up in a church. Seeing as he had been dead for several years, this would have surprised most of the people who knew him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this plotbunny just will not die so I'm inflicting it on the masses. Hopefully some of you will enjoy it, and hopefully I don't get any details wrong canon-wise (if I do, PLEASE comment and let me know so I can fix them!). 
> 
> Be fully warned, too: this will be slow to update, especially in the next couple of months or so. Not as slow, I think, as my Green Lantern fic is (and yes I kick myself for that every time I log in, sigh), but slow. This is due to a combination of other fics I'm working on for this and other fandoms, and general life stuff. But I do not plan to abandon this, trust me; I'm quite excited by the places I plan to take it! :) I just figured it was fair to warn you up front about it.
> 
> Comments welcome, concrit especially so! Don't be shy, okay?

 

 

 

Zack Fair woke up in a church. Seeing as he had been dead for several years, this would have surprised most of the people who knew him.   
  
For Zack himself, it was disconcerting. Not because he actually remembered that he was supposed to be dead - to the contrary, he was completely unsurprised to be alive, since as far as he could recall he always had been. No, he was disconcerted because he had no idea how he’d ended up there, let alone flat on his back. On the floor, no less.   
  
At least...he thought it was the floor? It smelled awfully nice for a floor. Like flowers.   
  
He glanced to either side of him. Huh. It _was_ flowers he was smelling. He was...in a flower bed? Which it seemed was...also on the floor. Well, in the floor. Under the floor? Oh well.  
  
That was a strange detail, he thought. Not so much because it was weird - though it was - but more because he didn’t actually find it surprising. Come to think of it...hadn’t he been here before? Even from his unorthodox vantage point, the room seemed really familiar.   
  
He thought about that for a moment, and it occurred to him that he recalled falling through the roof. But...wait, not recently, he realized. Can’t have been. The roof above him had long since been repaired, and there was no crater, and no debris around him. Just flowers. Which weren’t even crushed, so much as just bowed under him. As if he’d just sort of laid down on them. Or _been_ laid down on them. He wasn’t sure which.  
  
And when he tried to remember, his mind was just...blank. Weird.  
  
Was that a bad sign, he wondered? Generally you would remember where you passed out, right? Unless he’d been doing an awful lot of drinking, but first of all, he remembered being able to hold his liquor a bit better than that and second, he didn’t feel at all hungover.   
  
In fact...he didn’t even feel all that stiff. As if he’d only been napping. He actually felt pretty good in fact, felt relaxed and well-rested.   
  
Relaxed, well-rested, and yet with no clue how he ended up passed out on a bunch of plants in the middle of an old church? Talk about a weird combination. He wondered if he had gotten a concussion or something. Didn’t those sometimes affect memory?   
  
If he did have a head injury, it would explain a lot, he thought. Like not being able to remember how he got here. It was bad to move too much, if you had injuries to your head or neck or whatever, wasn’t it? He seemed to recall getting that warning at some point. So though he was tempted to try and sit up, he decided to double-check on that first.   
  
He tried wiggling his toes, then rotating his ankles, and then flexing his knees. They all seemed to move just fine. He held his hands up so he could see them, and  flexed his fingers. They also seemed fine. Okay! So, not only did he feel pretty good, but he wasn’t a paraplegic! Awesome! Time to check on the cabeza.   
  
He didn’t feel any sort of headache, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t an injury there - it just meant he didn’t feel one yet.  So he very, very carefully felt all around his skull.   
  
Huh. Nothing. Not even a bump!   
  
It occurred to him only then that he’d already moved his neck anyway. Right after waking up. He chuckled to himself at that. Heh. So much for caution.   
  
Oh well, he seemed...fine anyway? Mostly. Except for not knowing why he was here. Hmm. Had someone drugged him or something? Probably not, since he wasn’t even restrained. Still, he should probably check to see if that was the only gap in his recollections.  
  
 _All right, so, let’s start with the basics_ , he thought. Name? That was easy! _First name Zack, last name Fair, like it’s always been._ Birthday? Yep, he remembered that.   
  
_Hometown: Gongaga._  On the southern end of the Western continent, where it was nice and warm - unlike...hey! Come to think of it, this church he was in, it was in a place called... _Midgar. Yes! Midgar, that’s it. I’m in Midgar, in Sector 5._ And he was pretty sure he even had friends here! _Now we’re cookin’! Moving on to -_

...occupation!

...oh.

Well, that was problematic.

 

***

  
Had Cloud not been in the midst of a heated battle with multiple opponents he needed to keep track of, he would have done a double take at the blade that sliced through the beast that had snuck up behind him. He could have sworn -   
  
He chided himself, for thinking it was the Buster Sword. That thing was sitting on the altar in Aerith’s church, over two sectors away, right? Besides, he had bigger things to worry about. Such as having so many enemies in front of him he couldn’t even risk a glance behind him to check out the new arrival.  
  
He snapped out a quick, terse “Thanks!” to whomever it was that had joined the fray, and gave a quick but fervent prayer that they were actually on his side. He wasn’t an idiot, though, nor was he still alive after all these years for no reason: he still kept a scrap of awareness attuned to the area behind him anyway, just in case it was someone wanting a piece of him themselves and being determined enough to wade through a battle to do it. It wasn’t impossible, after all. Some days he seemed to have exactly that kind of luck.

Fortunately, this wasn’t one of those days, as the only response was a cheerful “No prob!” and the feel of a taller person’s back edging towards his own.  
  
 _Less_ fortunately, something in the voice - the tone? The actual sound of it? Both, maybe? - immediately and _potently_ reminded him of Zack. The tiny moment of heart-stopping confusion that resulted nearly caused him to lose a chunk of brain matter, and only his well-honed reflexes prevented that.  
  
He wasn’t stupid, of course; that warm back wasn’t going to be a dead man’s, no matter what he wanted to believe he had heard. _Or seen_ , he added to himself, recalling the completely silly assumption that he had seen the Buster Sword. The resemblance to his old weapon was probably slight, anyway - who could tell something that detailed in a fraction of a second, out of the corner of his eye, with so many other things flying at his face? - but it had been close enough to fool him for a moment.   
  
It was probably that, he concluded bitterly, that had put Zack in his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time his mind had played that kind of trick on him, after all. Hell, it had done a lot worse than that, when it came to Zack’s memory.   
  
_No time for that_ , he scolded himself, as another hit came far too close to his face. _Focus on what’s in front of you. Tifa’d be really upset if you got yourself hurt or killed, remember?_   
  
The thought of Tifa, who he knew was waiting for him back at the bar in Edge, grounded him a little. Better to focus on getting back to the living, than to obsess over the dead, he told himself. He noted the apparent proficiency of the fighter behind him, and realized to his relief that he didn’t have to worry so much about that angle of attack anymore. He relaxed a little, and soon found himself getting back into his stride. So it actually wasn’t long before they finished off the last of the monsters that had decided to make a beeline for him.   
  
Good riddance, he thought with satisfaction, as the last of them fell.  Those things weren’t too tough on their own, but in a swarm, they were flat-out obnoxious.  
  
He let out a breath, feeling most of the tension go out of him along with it. It didn’t matter that the end of the battle had been “easy”; it was still unsettling to get attacked out of nowhere when he wasn’t expecting it, and adrenaline only makes things easier for so long before it starts to wear on a body. Especially when one is already tired, which after a long delivery trip he sure as hell had been. He would be glad, he thought, to get back to the bar and relax for a while.  
  
The guy behind him let out a satisfied sound as well, and it occurred to him that, stranger or not, he should still thank him a bit more politely for jumping in. He had prevented a hit that had probably been aimed squarely at Cloud’s skull, after all, and then he’d stuck around after that and managed to make himself useful. It had made things a lot easier, allowed Cloud to get it over with a lot faster, and that was reason enough to be grateful.   
  
He turned to thank the guy properly, only for his heart to pretty much jump through his esophagus.  
  
Because the smiling person that turned to him - Buster Sword _definitely_ in hand - looked _exactly_ like Zack Fair.  
  
Who had been dead for several years.  
  
“Phew! There were a lotta those guys, huh?” Not-Zack said, and he _sounded_ exactly like him, too. He rested the Buster Sword - _stolen from Aerith’s church_ , Cloud realized - on his shoulder with one hand, with the other forming a proud fist that sat on his hip.   
  
A pose so perfectly _Zack_ , that if he hadn’t been shattering on the inside, Cloud might have laughed.  
  
 _I’ve cracked again_ , Cloud thought numbly, racking his brain for why or even when it had happened. _I’m hallucinating. Or..._   
  
_Oh. Oh gods, no. Please, please, no..._  
  
It...this was...Sephiroth all over again, wasn’t it? Because if this was a hallucination, it was pretty damn convincing. The warmth at his back seemed like a detail his brain shouldn’t have bothered with. But the Sword could have easily been stolen from its home in the church.  
  
And there were lots of ways to copy an appearance, even of a dead person. Even to steal part of their former form, or control them, or both - the Remnants had proved that well enough. Jenova had proved that well enough, after infecting Sephiroth. Hell, Sephiroth himself had been able to control the living, with the right materia, let alone someone sharing Jenova cells with him - which...every SOLDIER technically had, Cloud realized, with an awful, sinking feeling. But Zack would have more than most, wouldn’t he? Just like Cloud did.   
  
He’d been part of the same experiment of Hojo’s. If...if Sephiroth, or something like the Remnants…  
  
His gut lurched, threatening to rebel.  
  
 _It’s a trap_ , he thought, with the sense of horrifying epiphany. _Unless I’m more crazy than I’ve ever been, it’s a trap. And..._  
  
If it was, he’d have to fight someone who looked, sounded, acted... _felt_ , like Zack, might technically have started out as _pieces_ of Zack for all he knew, and it was already hard enough to fight someone like Sephiroth, who he used to admire and was so _sick_ of having to kill…

...but _Zack?_   
  
Gods, he...he couldn't. He _couldn't_.

Cloud felt he’d lost a lung or something. He fell to his knees, his world growing blurry with tears.

"Cloud? Buddy? What's wrong?” said the Thing That Looked Like Zack, with what seemed to be genuine concern. “You look like you've seen a ghost - "

It was like being slapped.   
  
Cloud choked a little, at the phrasing. He let out a small, somewhat hysterical laugh.  "I - I am..." Oh gods, he really was going mad. Madder. Than usual.

"What? Cloud, you're not making any sense," Not-Zack said, kneeling down slowly, and then setting the Buster Sword down next to them. "Talk to me, okay? What just happened? 'cause you were fine a minute ago, and now you're not."

Cloud took a long time to answer, but his eyes tracked the hand, as it set Buster Sword down. Part of him thought: _it's making a show of putting the weapon down. That doesn't mean there won't be an unarmed strike, or another weapon. It could be a distraction._

But even though the tactical part of his brain recognized the possibility, the idea of having to fight what looked and even _sounded_ like Zack…  
  
Too painful. Too much. He'd rather die, he realized, than have that part of him be right. Rather die than have to go through that, through fighting someone, _again_ , that he loved and admired. So instead, he sat there a moment, paralyzed with the fear of this "Zack" being just another way to fuck with his head to try and kill him. Destroy him, really. _Well, congratulations, fuckers, if that's your game, you've finally found the winning combination…_ he thought. His chest was so tensed, it felt like it was going to implode.

So he did not move, almost didn't even notice, when it moved to put a hand on his shoulder. Until it actually touched his shoulder.

He jerked in surprise. Felt a bolt of pure adrenaline run through him at the sudden contact, his body already instinctively prepared to fight.  
  
But the idea of _fighting_ him…  
  
He tried to force himself to even lift his sword - just to threaten, just to block, just to indicate he could defend himself. But found he lacked the will to do even that.   
  
So he didn't really react. He couldn't. If it had almost anyone else, almost any _other_ dead person's face and voice, he would probably defend himself by pure reflex. But not Zack.    
  
 _Anyone but Zack..._

"Cloud...?" the...Zack, whispered, leaning in to try and look him in the eyes.   
  
Cloud still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t going to be some horrible trap or just a horribly, painfully twisted hallucination or illusion or...something like that.   
  
But he also was desperate for a sign that was _not_ any of those things. Or at least not a trap. At least not...something _else_ , wearing _his_ face. So desperate that he actually listened for a moment. And forced himself to watch.  
  
The...Zack. It -he. He looked...worried? "Cloud, please," he said, his tone gently pleading. "Talk to me. You're safe, all right? I'm not gonna hurt you, nothing else is here either, so you're safe. Okay? You're safe. Just...talk to me? Please...?"

The hand on his shoulder wasn’t actually attacking him, Cloud noted. Just touching. His heart pounded. It - it couldn’t...could it?  
  
He brought himself to look up at that face, and into those eyes - _mako eyes_ , he noted - and saw concern written in them.

_If it's a trap, it really is a damn good one_ , he thought tentatively. And...if it were a hallucination…  
  
 _It's damn good for a hallucination, too._

And hadn’t he already decided it was a bit too real to be completely in his mind? But, if it wasn’t a hallucination, and it wasn’t a trap...  
  
It...seemed impossible. Then again, he had felt Zack’s presence, even heard his voice, during that last fight against Sephiroth. He had definitely still been...near. Like Aerith. Like he never quite left.  
  
But...it seemed like too much to hope for, didn’t it?

"W - " he felt his voice break, and winced. He forced himself to swallow a couple of times, to try and get some damn moisture down, before attempting to speak again. "Why...why are you here?" he said quietly. Because no matter what was going on, it seemed like a logical and extremely pertinent question.

Zack blinked. "What? I - well...you looked like you needed help...?" he said.

Cloud's brow furrowed. So...maybe it _was_...like that? Like that last fight with Sephiroth, maybe? Except this didn't seem like that incident. At all.

At Cloud's confused look, Zack - Cloud increasingly found he couldn’t _not_ think of him as such - clarified: "You had that one thing sneaking up behind you, remember? Just seemed like a lot of enemies for one person, is all, and...I dunno. You looked like you could use the help."

It was Cloud's turn to blink in confusion.

"I..." his brow furrowed even deeper. That was not at all what he expected the answer to be. Granted, he didn't know _what_ he expected, but it wasn't that.

Zack let out a puff of air, a sound equal parts frustration and befuddlement. "Look, I guess I don't get what the hell you're asking. We're _friends_ , right? And you were gonna take a hit, and I could stop it. Why _wouldn't_ I?"

"I..." Cloud looked at him. Really looked at him, slowly and in no less confusion. "I meant...in general."

Zack made a face that was almost pained. "Cloud, what is that even supposed to _mean_?"

"It's just...Zack...you're dead," Cloud said, mystified that he even had to explain it.  
  
Zack blinked again.  A moment later, he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Cloud searched his face for any sign of...he wasn’t sure what. Comprehension, maybe?  "You're...you died," he said softly. "Years ago..."

Zack gave him a skeptical look, and Cloud felt himself getting oddly defensive. “It’s true!” he said.   
  
Zack then shot him an infuriatingly _amused_ look, and said: “Really?” He lifted the hand that was sitting on Cloud’s shoulder, and slowly, gently, poked Cloud in the chest with the forefinger. “Coulda fooled me.” He had been about to say something else, when Cloud beat him to the punch.  
  
 _“I **saw** you die, Zack!”_ he blurted out, tears stinging at the edges of his eyes again.  
  
That. _That_ gave Zack pause. He blinked, and stared at the panting, teary, choking blond in front of him, his mouth opening, and working, for a good few seconds before he finally said: “...you did?”   
  
“Yes!” Cloud snapped.   
  
There was a long, awkward pause. “...are you _sure_?” Zack said, more than a little skepticism in his voice. “Because  - “  
  
“ ** _Yes!_** ” Cloud cried, his voice breaking again and this time he didn’t even care, nor did he care that tears had started spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m fucking _**sure** **!**_ You - it - it happened right...right in _front_ of me!” he said, unable to banish the images now that they had been dredged up. “You - y- you _bled out_...there were... _gods_ ,” he choked, squeezing his eyes shut. “There were... s-so _many_ of them...y-you took so many _hits_...”   
  
“Cloud…” Zack said, and Cloud didn’t need to look up to know he looked stricken.   
  
Still, he had to force it out. Had to be goddamn coherent, already. He forced himself to swallow hard, and forced himself to say: “I...I saw it _happen_ , Zack. I was _there_. You took dozens of bullets, straight to - to the _chest_ …” he grit his teeth, made himself slow and deepen his breathing. _Control. **Control** yourself, Strife. _  
  
He looked up to see a baffled and quite disconcerted Zack frowning, and touching his own chest, as if trying to feel for the wounds.  
  
He took a deep, slow breath. Tried to think.  
  
Okay. So. Whoever or whatever this was, it was...not currently acting like a threat. It was showing him apparent concern. It...seemed a hell of a lot like _Zack_ , really. But it was definitely _corporeal_. If it _was_ Zack, how the hell…?  
  
“I wonder if that’s why?” he muttered, breaking Cloud’s train of thought.   
  
Cloud frowned. “Why...what?”  
  
Zack gave him a speculative look, before crossing his arms and sitting back on his heels. “There...are some things I’m having trouble remembering,” he said. “Like how the hell I got here. Or where I was last, before I woke up in Sector 5 a couple days ago.”  
  
 _That_ got Cloud’s attention.  
  
“Sector 5?” he said, heart suddenly pounding again.   
  
“Yeah,” Zack confirmed.  
  
No. It couldn’t be.   
  
Could it? But...  
  
“Where in Sector 5?” he said, and unconsciously held his breath as he waited for the response.  
  
“In this weird little church,” Zack replied. “There are all these flowers along part of the floor, and - “   
  
“ _Aerith’s_ church?” Cloud said. But more out of disbelief at what couldn’t _possibly_ have been a coincidence, than anything else.  
  
Zack looked up sharply. “You know the place?” he said.   
  
“Yes,” Cloud said. “I...it’s...where I ended up leaving…” he looked over at the Buster Sword. “Y-your...memorial.”  
  
“Oh,” Zack said. A moment later, adding: “I guess that explains the Buster Sword, huh?”  
  
“Yes,” Cloud said, his head swimming. This couldn’t possibly be - that - that would be too easy. Wouldn’t it? Miracles like that didn’t - they didn’t just _happen_ , right?

Zack nodded. “All right. Well, that’s...something, I guess?” He winced, and scratched the back of his head. He frowned, and looked at Cloud again. “Though that honestly begs a hell of a lot more questions than it answers…”  
  
“So...you don’t know why…?”  
  
Zack gave him a rueful smile, before cheerfully responding: “Not a clue!”   
  
Cloud regarded him for a moment in what could only be described as bafflement. “So...you just…?”  
  
“Woke up in a flower bed in a church in Sector 5 with no idea how I got there? Pretty much,” Zack said. “That’s about the sum of it.” After a moment’s pause, he perkily added: “In perfect health, too! Didn’t have a scratch on me - or a bump, for that matter. I know, ‘cause when I realized I didn’t remember how I got there, I figured, ‘ohhh crap, Fair, you got yourself a concussion or something!’, except apparently I didn’t. Though if I...died and then...un-died or whatever, I guess that explains _some_ of it?” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Maybe? I dunno. It’s not like I’ve ever had this happen to me before, and I don’t think they write manuals for this kinda thing…”  
  
Cloud didn’t know what to make of this. He was still reeling from the revelation that Zack was _alive_. It...was a lot to take in all at once. Having no idea _why_  didn’t make it any easier.   
  
Zack seemed to catch on a little to that when he glanced over, as he gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry...I guess this is...kind of weird for you, huh? I didn’t mean to freak you out, or to - sorry, I just don’t know when to shut up, sometimes -”  
  
“What? No!” Cloud said quickly. “It’s not your - I mean -” he let out a breath. “It’s not your fault. It’s just...a weird situation all around.”  
  
“Yeah…” There was a moment of awkward silence, before Zack asked, tentatively: “Cloud? Are...you gonna be okay?”  
  
Cloud took a slow breath as he considered the question.  “With you being alive? Yeah. Otherwise? I don’t know.”  
  
Zack gave him a lopsided smile, as he sat down a little more comfortably.  “Fair enough.”   
  
Now that Cloud was out of Pure Panic Mode, he let himself sit too, and started looking at him a little more carefully.   
  
He certainly _looked_ like the Zack he remembered. The same black, spiky hair, the same blue eyes -   
  
\- almost the same clothes, he thought, his chest tightening a little. Not identical, but close enough to the old SOLDIER 1st Class uniform and armor that it made him a little uneasy. It reminded him a little too much of the clothes he’d seen riddled with bullets all those years ago. He forced himself to put that out of his mind as best he could.   
  
He frowned, as something occurred to him. “Have...you said you woke up in the church a couple days ago?”   
  
“Yep! Why?”  
  
“Where have you been staying?” Cloud asked. “You haven’t been on the streets, have you?” The idea of his friend alone on the streets in the slums, let alone sleeping there, was a little alarming even if he did have the big, bad Buster Sword hanging off his back.   
  
Zack gave him another sheepish look, as he rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
“Eh...kinda?” he said. “I mean...well, I don’t - ” he looked away awkwardly. “There’s...I dunno. There are some holes in...what I remember,” he murmured. “I kinda...didn’t remember having any place in particular to stay? So - ”   
  
“You can stay with me,” Cloud said, so quickly he that realized he hadn’t even thought twice about making the offer. He _really_ hoped this wasn’t going to be a trap, because if it was, he was falling for it pretty damn easily. It was just too hard not to trust _that_ face.  
  
Any second thoughts he might have had about it though were lessened by Zack’s reaction, because he positively lit up at the suggestion.  
  
“Really!?” he said, leaning forward to the point he rolled onto his knees. “You mean it!?”  
  
“Yeah,” Cloud said, and at Zack’s eager, relieved, _grateful_ expression, he couldn’t help but smile a little. “I mean it.”  
  
“Oh, man, thank you!” Zack gushed. “I mean, I know it’s not like, winter or whatever, but Midgar is still freaking _cold_ at night, ya know? Thank you!”   
  
The next thing Cloud knew, there was a Zack cheek to cheek with him and squeezing. “Uh...you’re welcome?”  
  
“I knew it!” Zack continued happily. “I _knew_ I remembered right about you!”   
  
“Oh?” Cloud said, not used to being randomly hugged by people in general, let alone supposedly-dead friends.   
  
“Yeah!” Zack said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. “As soon as I saw you, I remembered ‘That’s Cloud Strife!’, and I remembered you being a really good guy, and being really good friends with you. I’m so glad I found you!”

“I - me too,” Cloud said, and felt his cheeks grow warm. “I - I dunno if I’m...all that similar to what you remember, though,” he muttered. “I mean, it’s...it’s been a few years...”

Zack shook his head. “Nah, you’re definitely the same guy - ” he poked Cloud’s chest, and smiled. “ - where it counts. I can tell.”  
  
Cloud felt his cheeks grow warmer still. But that did make him curious…  
  
“I’m - you really think I haven’t changed that much?” Considering how much of Zack’s personality he’d basically stolen, and how much, just... absolute _insanity_ had happened in the last few years, it was worth asking.  
  
“Welllll,” Zack leaned back, putting a hand on his chin and giving him a speculative look. “I think you might be a little taller.”  
  
The observation was so banal, and so utterly inconsequential, that it actually made Cloud laugh. Zack grinned, and added, nodding in approval: “Also, you’ve gotten really good at the fighting stuff. It felt like you almost didn’t need me out there!”  
  
“I’m glad you helped,” Cloud interjected. “I’m…” he swallowed, looking at that...that look of _pride_ on Zack’s face. “I’m glad you’re...that you came to me,” he finished quietly.   
  
“Me too,” Zack said, softening. “I’m really glad I found you, too. It’s...been kinda lonely the last couple of days.”  
  
“Really?” Cloud had a hard time imagining someone as friendly as Zack being lonely. Then again, he hadn’t accounted for what it was like to be friendly and _alone._  
  
“Yeah,” Zack said, and his smile was so uncharacteristically sad, Cloud felt his heart clench. “I dunno why, but people seem to want to stay away from me a lot ever since I...got back, I guess?" He looked down. "I wish I knew why…”  
  
Cloud could imagine why. Even without the usual fear of outsiders that a lot of people had down there, the clothing _can’t_ have helped much. It wasn’t actually Shin-Ra-issue - he could tell it wasn’t - but it still looked a hell of a lot like the old SOLDIER uniforms. Enough so that in the dim lighting of the slums, it’d probably spook the average citizen, especially when paired with a gigantic weapon hanging off his back. And speaking of dim lighting…  
  
He leaned forward, double-checking his initial impression. Yep. The characteristic glow of mako enhancement was definitely still there - he could tell, even though Zack wasn’t looking directly at him. As if reading his mind, Zack added:  
  
“Even when someone seems like they kinda might be open to talking to me, it’s...I dunno, it’s _weird_. They’ll be fine, maybe, right up until they see my face or look into my eyes - I don’t...look like a freak or something, do I?” Zack said, looking back up. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been able to look in a mirror, but…”  
  
Gah. That face. It was like looking at a kicked puppy. For a moment, Cloud was too struck by seeing such a forlorn face on his normally-upbeat friend that he was unable to respond.   
  
“It’s...no, of course not,” he said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You just...you look like _you._ It’s just that...a lot of the people left down that way are skittish around strangers, and…” he bit his lip. He hated bringing it up, not least because it was a painful thing to be aware of even for himself, but Zack deserved to know.   
  
He shifted so he could lean in close, and tilted Zack’s face til they were eye to eye. He pointed to his own.   
  
“You see this?” he said. “That glow?”  
  
“Yeah…” Zack said, looking at his eyes, his expression transfixed but somehow hard to read. “What about it?”   
  
“It’s from exposure to mako,” Cloud said. “You have it too. People these days...they’re a little leary about mako, is all.” Which was an understatement, really, but the most succinct way of putting it, without getting into a detailed history of Shin-Ra’s sordid activities.  
  
A look of comprehension smoothed over Zack’s features. “Oh! So -” he touched the side of Cloud’s face gently. “So...it’s just that glow that’s been scaring them off?”  
  
“Probably. I mean, that’s part of it, anyway. But it’s not your fault,” Cloud said firmly. “Okay?” Something in his friend’s worried expression prompted him to worry that Zack wasn’t taking that last bit to heart. “Zack?”  
  
“Huh?” Zack  blinked. “Sorry. I just…” he stared into Cloud’s eyes, and Cloud felt his thumb rub along his cheek. “In yours. This is from that mako poisoning you had, isn’t it?”   
  
_Ow._ Was there anything poor Zack could say that wouldn’t make something inside of Cloud clench tight, he wondered?   
  
Still, he forced himself to respond. “Yeah…” he said. “It is. Which is _also_ not your fault.”  
  
Zack gave him another rueful smile. “True. I’m just…” he rubbed his cheek again. “Thinking about what that means for you, too. If people avoid folks like us nowadays, who have that…”  
  
Cloud’s cheeks positively burned now. “It - it’s not that bad,” he muttered. “I - I have friends, especially here in Midgar. It’s just that you’re a stranger to a lot of the people down that way, and…” he glanced down at Zack’s clothes. “That outfit probably doesn’t help. A lot of the people down there - a lot of people period, really - they’re not exactly fond of Shin-Ra lately.”   
  
Zack blinked, frowned, glanced down at his own clothing, then back up at Cloud. And then he said something that somehow frightened Cloud a hell of a lot more than him simply showing up when he was supposed to be dead ever could:

“What’s Shin-Ra?”  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how much has Zack forgotten?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! This is the first time I've ever gotten comments and kudos on a story, let alone so quickly! This is probably the most popular story I've ever posted anywhere, period. Holy cow. It's surprising but really heartening to see people actually liking my work, and thanks to your encouragement, this chapter went up way faster. I even technically made my self-imposed "Before December" deadline (albeit barely)! Woo! Enjoy :)

Cloud felt his mouth go dry.

"...you're shitting me," he said.

Apparently he wasn’t.  
  
Zack looked at him, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. "Ah...no. I...I _should_ though, right?” he said, his expression crestfallen, as he looked down. His tone became plaintive, his voice quiet.  “I know I should. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’ve... got a few holes, in what I remember."

"And...that's one of the holes?" Cloud said slowly, thinking: _Shit. Shit shit shit. Not good. **Not** good._

Shin-Ra was the company that Zack had run away from home to join, at the ripe old age of 13. The company that up until just a few years ago, had pretty much ruled the world and owned a piece of everything. The company that Zack had spent his most of his youth, his entire adult career, either working for, being experimented on by, or running from. The one that had _killed_ him.   
  
And _that_ was something he had forgotten?  
  
 _Shiva,_ he thought. If _that_ was gone, what _else_ was missing?

"Yeah," Zack said, breaking his train of thought. His expression was disconcerted.  "I mean...I figured out it was some kinda company, right?  'Cause I've seen the logo a couple times? And I know they’ve been around a while, since some of the stuff it was on was pretty old-looking? And it... _feels_ like I should know more. I _know_ I should. But, it's like..." Zack paused, obviously trying to pin down a comparison.

Cloud bit his lip, waiting patiently.

Finally, Zack looked up, his gaze distant but intense. He put out an open hand, as if trying to grasp for something.  "...like every time I reach for it..." he said, and then gripped it closed. He let his arm drop, let out a frustrated huff as he looked down again.  
  
"It slips through,” he said. “It’s like — like trying to hold on to _water_. It's there, I can _feel_ it there, and then...it's just _gone_." He lifted his head again, and Cloud's heart wrenched.

He was pretty sure he'd had that look himself. Most would see only fear and uncertainty, but Cloud knew better. Knew it was more than that.   
  
It was the look of _knowing_ you're missing something, knowing even that it’s something _important_ , but not knowing how to call it back — or even _what_ you're missing.   
  
He knew all too well the feeling Zack was describing.  
  
He swallowed. “Zack…”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Zack said quickly, and his tone was so apologetic it hurt. “I know it’s something import—“  
  
He didn’t get to finish, because Cloud had pulled him closer and into a fierce hug. “It’s okay,” he said, resting his cheek against Zack’s. “It’s okay, Zack. It’s not your fault. Okay? It’s not your fault.”

Zack was surprised by the act, but only momentarily; he leaned against him, returning the embrace gratefully.   
  
“You really think so?” he said.   
  
“Yes,” Cloud said firmly. “Obviously, I don’t know what’s causing it but...Zack, I’ve been through something like that before.” He swallowed, hating to talk about it, but if anyone needed to hear it, it was Zack.   
  
“You have?” Zack said, surprised.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “For a while, after I was mako-poisoned? It was a few years ago. I had the same kind of problem.” He tightened the embrace. “I got through it, though, with help. With my friends. I got through it, and so you can you, okay?”  
  
Zack hugged him tighter, too. “Okay…”  
  
Then Cloud heard a sound that made him raise an eyebrow.   
  
“Zack?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Was that your stomach growling, or are we about to get an earthquake?” Cloud said dryly.   
  
“Ah...heh. Yeah, um. That was definitely my stomach.”  
  
Cloud frowned, as it hit him: “Zack...when was the last time you ate?”  
  
“Um...yesterday?”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Cloud said, pulling back to look at him in alarm. “What time?”  
  
“Um...little after noon, I think?”  
  
“That was almost 24 hours ago!” Cloud said, indignant.  
  
Zack winced, rubbing his neck again. “Yeah, I know...but....well, I didn’t exactly wake up with any money in my pockets, ya know? Kinda had to scrounge…”  
  
Cloud felt something tighten in his chest again. “When...you say ‘scrounge’...”  
  
“I, uh...kinda dumpster-dived a little?” Zack said, and upon taking one look at Cloud, added: “Whoa, don’t make that face, okay? It wasn’t _that_ bad, it was right after the lunch rush at some place that popped up near the church, so, you know...yeah, it was leftovers, but it was still fresh, ya know?”  
  
“And let me guess: half-eaten,” Cloud said, brushing a stray hair from his face. “That barely even counts as eating, Zack.”  
  
“I dunno, it was a pretty good burger,” Zack joked.    
  
“Well, fuck that,” Cloud said firmly. “We’re going to get you some _real_ food. Fresh, still- _hot_ food.”  
  
Zack perked up a little, though he still seemed hesitant. As he opened his mouth, Cloud answered before he could ask.  
  
“On me,” he said. “My treat. I just got paid for a good-sized delivery, so I’ve got the gil. Don’t even worry about paying me back, okay? Like I’d let you fucking starve. No, we’re getting you a full goddamn stomach, _now_.”  
  
Zack’s look of joy was unmatched, Cloud thought, as he was hugged even more fiercely. Zack gushed more thank-yous, and more happy declarations of how glad he was to find him and how “amazing” of a friend he was, but all Cloud could really think of was a lonely Zack —Zack, who had given up everything to save him— sleeping in decrepit alleys and eating out of trash bins and not knowing what he was doing there or why no one would talk to him.  
  
It occurred to him that even if this _was_ a trap, he didn’t want to be the kind of person who wouldn’t fall for it.

*** 

Sector 5 was the exception that proved the rule in Midgar. Had it not been for Aerith’s old church being the center of the cure for Geostigma, it would have been just another group of abandoned buildings. As it was, Cloud actually _had_ heard of a small bit of revitalization in the area, mostly commercial enterprises capitalizing on the famous Church’s newfound popularity as a travel destination.  
  
Cloud had yet to go and see for himself, because the idea of Aerith’s Church being a site of pilgrimage to anyone who hadn’t known her, let alone that holy place being commercialized into another tacky tourist spot, didn’t sit well with him. He often wondered if there were charlatans selling alleged healing waters from the Church that were actually tap water; he wouldn’t bet a single gil against it.

As it was though, no one would mistake where they were now for Sector 5’s new “Church District”, as it was increasingly called. They were at the northern edge of Sector 3, which like almost all of the city, was mostly ruins now.  

Having promised Zack a hearty lunch —and being hungry himself— Cloud decided it was time to pack up the salvage for the day. He already had everything Tifa had been needing lately, as far as he knew.  
  
He had been forced to drop some of the junk he’d gathered, when the monsters had swarmed; Zack helped him get it back together and stuff it in his bag, and they started the walk back to where he had parked Fenrir. Cloud knew it would probably be weird if Zack noticed how much he was staring at him, but it was hard not to, especially when Zack looked so...pensive. Cloud was about to bite the bullet and ask what was on his mind, when he broke the silence himself.  
  
“Cloud?” he said.  
  
“Yeah?”

“Maybe this is, I dunno, one of those ‘holes’ I was talking about, but…” he paused, obviously troubled, and somehow Cloud knew what was going to ask about. He dreaded being right.  
  
“I don’t remember Midgar being this...beat up,” Zack said. “I mean, I saw some street signs — this is Sector 3, right? But I don’t remember it looking anything like —like _this_ …” he gestured around them, but he glanced skywards, and Cloud knew he was looking to where the Plate used to be.

“Um, yeah,” Cloud said, wincing. “It...there was um, kind of a...disaster. A few years ago. The whole city got tore up pretty bad. The plates all collapsed in on it, and most people who could afford to have moved out. Most of them have settled in Edge, I think, though I know some went to Kalm.”  
  
“Oh,” Zack said, pursing his lips. He looked understandably somber at that, though also a bit unsurprised. Cloud supposed that since Zack had been wandering around Midgar for a couple of days, it wasn’t exactly news that _something_ bad had happened to it. “I keep hearing that name,” Zack added thoughtfully. “ ‘Edge’. Where is that?”  
  
“It’s a new city, a little east of here,” Cloud said. “They started building it sometime after Meteorfall —the thing that tore up Midgar,” he added, realizing he hadn’t named the ‘disaster’. “It’s just outside of Sectors 3 and 4. Well, what used to be Sectors 3 and 4.”  
  
Zack nodded slowly. “Is that where we’re headed?” he asked.   
  
“Yeah,” Cloud replied. “That’s where I live now, myself.” He had still yet to decide whether they were going directly back to Seventh Heaven, or spending gil somewhere else for food; given that Tifa had met Zack though, and more importantly was aware of his previous death, he was starting to lean towards the latter. Otherwise things might get...awkward. Especially as he wasn’t yet sure what else Zack was missing from his memories. For all he knew, he didn’t even remember meeting Tifa. Definitely the first priority, he thought, would be figuring out what he did and didn’t recall...

Cloud had been lost in those thoughts for a few moments when Zack cocked his head. “Hey. Did you say you got paid for a ‘delivery’?” 

“Oh, right,” Cloud said, and had to resist the urge to smack himself in the forehead. Of course Zack wouldn’t know about what he did for a living now. Why would he think he would?  “Um, I do sort of a courier thing now. Strife Delivery Service.”

Zack smiled. “Small business owner, huh? Nice.”   
  
Cloud shrugged. “I suppose. It just made sense at the time. I was doing it often enough already, we figured I might as well make it an official gig, you know?”

Zack nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. Upon seeing Fenrir, he muttered, “Whoa, cool bike…” Cloud reached for his keys, and he blurted: “Wait — is this yours? Cloud! This is really cool-looking!”  
  
Cloud gave a small smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. Had to get some sort of transportation, after I started making deliveries more regularly. Definitely an improvement over a rented chocobo, yeah?”  
  
Zack laughed. “Oh man, yeah, _definitely_. Hey, is there room for both of us on —oh who am I kiddin’, this thing’s _massive,_ of course there is.”   
  
Cloud snorted. “Yeah, kinda. I might’ve have gotten something smaller, but…” he shrugged, popping open the rear compartment. “It has decent storage and stuff.” He demonstrated by fitting the entire bag’s worth of salvage into it with room to spare.   
  
“Plus,” Zack said, nodding sagely. “It’s really cool-looking.”

“Plus it’s really cool-looking,” Cloud agreed, slinging himself into the driver’s seat. “Hop on, and hold tight, okay? I’m not gonna drive like a maniac or anything, but I still don’t want you fallin’ off if I have to take a sharp turn.”  
  
“Yes, sir!” Zack said, grinning and giving him a mock salute. But he did as asked.  
  
It felt...strange, to have him back there, Cloud thought. Not that he hadn’t had passengers behind him before, but none of them had been _Zack_ ; it was still a bit surreal. Even having halfway managed to wrap his brain around the fact that he was alive, it was still another thing entirely to feel his warmth pressed up against his back and wrapped around his middle.   
  
“Is this okay?” Zack said. “You said to hold on, so — ”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Perfect, actually,” Cloud said, starting the engine. He tried to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck were tingling at his presence, and pushed off.

Though the roads were still a bit messy, a few years’ worth of scavenging had left them at least driveable, and they weren’t far from Edge to begin with. It didn’t take long to make it to the newer city’s limits, and as they did, Cloud slowed a little, as he pondered which place to pick and let Zack gawk a bit at the new, haphazardly-constructed city. Which he was doing a lot of, given the entire city hadn’t even existed last time he was in Midgar. There were a few times where he felt Zack twist a little to see things better; there was even a moment where Zack had craned his neck off to the side so much Cloud was concerned he might fall off.   
  
Cloud had glanced over his shoulder to try and see what had prompted it, and saw only a flash of red. When he asked, though, Zack only frowned and mumbled, “I thought I saw…” before shaking his head. “You know, it’s probably nothing; don’t worry about it. Anyway, where are we going?”

Good question, Cloud thought. There was a decent Wutaian place on the way, and even, surprisingly, a new Gongagan place just one street over; he was half tempted to pick that one, just so Zack could get a taste of home.   
  
But he hadn’t tried it yet. Partly because every time he passed it, with the little sign in the window with a cheerfully-colored map of the place, it reminded him of when he and his friends had passed through a few years ago, and met Zack’s parents. Who he wasn’t able to give any information to, at the time, about the fate of their boy. Who he had put off talking to for years, because every time he convinced himself he should, and started rehearsing what to say, he wound up convincing himself right out of it again.

He had considered just writing a letter, but that had seemed like an even worse idea. It wasn’t the kind of news a person should get by a letter, he thought, even a more personal one from someone who had known him. Especially when that person hadn’t _remembered_ he had known him, when they last spoke to him. How would that even read? How was he even supposed to write it? “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fair, Sorry I completely forgot about your son’s existence, but yeah, I totally remember him now and sorry, he kinda died in my arms but if you want to travel to an entirely different continent, you won’t find his body to bury but his memorial’s way over in Midgar”? Oh yeah, sure. That wouldn’t be awkward at _all._  
  
It didn’t help that if he so much as brought up the fact that the had ever met them, Zack would probably want to know more, and he just didn’t have that kind of information. Because he had been unable to think of a way to even approach them, he had avoided everything to do with the town and inevitably didn’t even know if they still lived there. With his kind of luck, he’d tell Zack he had met them before, go through the effort of locating them again for him, and then find out they had died like a week before they got there.

He decided against the Gongagan place.

“Hmm,” he said. “Do burgers and fried stuff sound good? There’s a little diner a couple blocks from here that does both pretty well.”

“That sounds _awesome_ ,” Zack said, with exactly the kind of enthusiasm you might expect from an already-boisterous person who has been half-starved for two days.   
  
Cloud couldn’t help but smile a little at that. In world still in recovery from disasters and disease and war, and with all the shit he and the people he loved had had to go through, it was kind of nice to be able to make someone’s day like that.

“All right,” he said. “Bustlin’ Bob’s it is.”

Parking for it was — as was often the case — a bitch. But with a little patience, Cloud managed to find a spot that wasn’t too far away. “You got abs of steel now, Spiky,” Zack commented as the road noise dimmed again.  
  
“...I do?” Cloud said. He was a little distracted by the act of parking, but it occurred to him that he had just received a compliment.  
  
“Yeah!” Zack said as they were pulling into the freshly-abandoned space. He gave Cloud’s midriff a squeeze for emphasis. “You totally do. You been workin’ out?”   
  
Cloud flushed a little. “Not...intentionally,” he muttered. “Just...do a lot of physical stuff, I guess?”

Zack shrugged as they dismounted. “Well, whatever you’re doin’ it’s working,” he said, giving him a light pseudo-punch on the arm. “You’ve gotten really buff!”  
  
Cloud wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Granted, it was probably true he had put on some  bulk since Zack had last seen him —if nothing else, having been catatonic for a while couldn’t have been good for his muscle mass at the time— but if anyone had ever noticed such things about him these days, they rarely commented. Zack’s tone was affectionate and a little proud though, and he seemed sincere, so Cloud muttered a “thanks” as they walked in.

“Strife!” said the owner when he saw them. “Good to see ya! Been a while — who’s your friend?”  
  
“Um, hey Bob,” said Cloud, as he scanned for an open table. “This is Zack. He’s never been here before, so I think we’ll need a menu...”

“No prob, kiddo,” he said, and literally tossed one over the bar. Zack caught it before he could register that it was heading towards his face, and started flipping through, sniffing the air as he did.   
  
“Wow,” he said. “It smells _amazing_ in here!”

“Heh, yeah,” Cloud said, spotting an open table for two back in the corner. “It’s a bit of a greasy spoon, but it’s cheap and it usually hits the spot. Let’s go sit.”

Zack plopped down happily across from him, groaning. “Man, everything looks so good! I don’t know what to pick!”  
  
Cloud shrugged. “Pick whatever you want,” he said.  
  
Zack grinned. “Okay!” he said, then turned his attentions to the menu, giving it the kind of all-consuming attention one might to a battlefield.   
  
Cloud pursed his lips. “Also,” he added. “Don’t worry about cost, okay? You’re literally fuckin’ starving, so don’t feel like you need to order light. I picked a cheap place for a reason, and I got the gil to cover it. Order as much as you want, whatever you want. I mean it, okay?”

He met Zack’s eye as he glanced up, and gave him a pointed look. “And if your eyes are bigger than your stomach — well, we got room in the fridge. It’ll get eaten one way or another. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
Zack softened, and looked like he was going to speak. Cloud had a feeling he knew what he was going to say, and cut in before he could: “Yes, really. Okay?”   
  
“Okay,” he said, and Cloud swore he could feel the warmth radiate off him. Man, no wonder Aerith had fallen for him. He had a way of smiling that made you want to smile right back.

Cloud ordered himself an extra-large burger with a side of potato chips and a soda, while Zack ended up ordering several burgers with fried veggies and slaw, and an apple juice to drink — a combination that made Cloud raise an eyebrow. Zack explained, “Hey, I gotta get some fruit in there somewhere, right? I’m probably missin’ a few vitamins.” Which made enough sense that Cloud chose not to question it further.

Especially since he had more pressing questions.

“Zack?” he said.   
  
“Yes?”

“Um…” Damn, this was hard. But it needed to be done. “Is it okay if I ask you some stuff? To you know, see... what’s a ‘hole’ and what isn’t, for you?”  
  
Zack nodded. “Of course! What do you want to start with?”  
  
That much was obvious. “Do you remember Tifa?”  
  
Zack frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Tifa…Tifa...”  
  
Cloud tried to not to tense up at that. “Tifa Lockhart? From...Nibelheim?” _Please don’t let that word be triggering..._

He was relieved when Zack’s face relaxed, his eyes sparkling. “Oh! I think I do! Long black hair, kinda short — ?” He gestured with one hand quite below his eye level. “And, ummm…” his mouth twisted in what was clearly a suppressed smirk, and he gestured outward from his chest with both hands, drawing a curve in the air.

Cloud snorted, suppressing a smirk of his own. Poor Tifa. Half the time that was all people remembered her for.

“Generous, ah, chest,” he said. “Yeah, that’s her.”  
  
“Hmm,” Zack gave another thoughtful frown, though it lasted only a moment. “You grew up in Nibelheim too, right? It’s a small town...you two know each other, right?”  
  
The use of the present tense did not go unnoticed by Cloud. _Crap,_ he thought. But he replied: “Yeah, we were neighbors. She was the mayor’s daughter.”  
  
“Oh yeah! She was, wasn’t she?” Zack said. “I think I remember that. That, and a ridiculously short fringe skirt,” he grinned. “A little cowgirl outfit, actually — boots, hat, the whole works. She pulled it off, though.”

“Yeah, she did,” Cloud said, trying not to focus on what had happened while she had been wearing that one.   
  
Zack frowned. “Why? Is she okay?” He actually looked concerned, which Cloud thought was kind of touching, considering he had only barely met Tifa before...well, _before_.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Cloud said hurriedly. “She lives in Edge now, running a bar not far from here; I actually live on the floor above it. I just wanted to make sure you remembered her, because she’ll remember you, and it would have been awkward if you didn’t, you know?” _Well, **more** awkward, anyway...  
_

“Ah!” Zack nodded, smiling. “Makes sense. That’s cool, that you two still know each other.” He paused, his mouth doing a weird sort of twisty motion that Cloud was pretty sure was just a result of Thinking Mode. “You say you live above her bar?”  
  
Cloud nodded, and he added, giving him a cagey sort of look: “So...are you two an item then, or...?”  
  
Cloud felt himself flush a little. “I—um. I don’t…” _Sure, ask the hard questions._  “We’re close,” he ended up saying.

At Zack’s raised eyebrow, he shot him an annoyed look, and clarified: “We haven’t really bothered figuring it out or anything,” he said. “We went through a lot together —Meteorfall is only the half of it— and...I dunno, it’s one of those things where it feels weird to label anything, other than 'we’re close', you know?”    
  
Granted, okay, they had made out a little during Meteorfall, but he still wasn’t sure whether that impacted anything one way or another; everything had been insane and over the top and it had felt good, but it also hadn’t been something they’d apparently needed to repeat. Almost like it had been a valve, relieving all that pent-up pressure, and their simple proximity was enough to be reassuring these days. Especially after the whole business with Geostigma had been cleared up and he had stopped being a mopey asshole and ignoring her.

Zack was giving him a pensive look now, and nodding slowly. “I think I know what you mean,” he said.

“Heh. We do have a couple kids we take care of though,” Cloud noted, giving a slight smile.

Zack seemed to perk up a little at that. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “Not hers or mine originally, but Barrett’s too busy to stay in Edge most of time to keep watch over Marlene, and Denzel...well, his parents died. He didn’t have anyone else, really, so we took him in. He and Marlene stay on the same upper floor as me.”

“Aww,” Zack said, beaming at him. “How old are they?”  
  
Cloud got briefly distracted telling him about the two, and by the time he had finished and gotten around to remembering that he was supposed to be asking _Zack_ questions, the food was arriving.

He let Zack scarf down the first two burgers before picking up where he’d left off. He was half tempted not to, but there were some things that really, _really_ needed to be addressed.   
  
He swallowed the last of his own burger, washed it down with some soda, and broached the subject that had been bothering him most: “So...Zack. Do you remember anything about what you used to do for a living?”

Zack took a bite of his third burger, and chewed pensively, swallowing before he answered. “That’s one of the things that bugs me,” he admitted. “I don’t recall specifics. I just know it had something to do with...fighty stuff? Like, I remember doing a lot of monster-fighting — helping you out felt really natural, like I’d done stuff like that a million times, you know? I remember using the Buster Sword for that, and I remember…” he trailed off, frowning in thought.   
  
He looked back up at Cloud and asked: “Did you and I used to work together?”  
  
Cloud nodded. “Yes,” he said, refraining from saying anything further. He needed to see how much Zack could recall on his own.  
  
Zack gave him a smile. “See, I thought I remembered something like that. But I think back then you mostly used a gun, not a sword.”  
  
Another nod. _Good so far. Keep going._

“And you wore a scarf,” he added. “I remember that. And a blue...suit, sorta?”  
  
“Yeah, I did.” He remembered his old infantry uniform, then, Cloud thought. That was a good sign.

Zack nodded again, though slowly. “There were other people who we used to work with,” he said. “But I’m not sure I remember them all. There was a guy who never took off his helmet, though, I think he and I were pretty close…”  
  
Cloud blinked. “Um,” he said tentatively. “That...might have been me? I, uh, went through a...phase at one point where I didn’t want people I knew from back home to recognize me, so I kept the helmet on a lot of the time.”  
  
Zack raised an eyebrow. “Really? That seems silly.”  
  
Cloud felt a blush creep back into his cheeks. “Y-yeah...I guess it was,” he mumbled.  
  
Zack shrugged. “Anyway, no, it wasn’t you — he used to wear something different, and I think he used a sword. I think his hair was actually orange, too, not blond.”  
  
“...oh,” Cloud said. He thought back. Some of his memories of the period after he left home but before the Nibelheim Incident were a little fuzzy; he knew he had worked as an infantryman for Shin-Ra, and he knew that was where he had met Zack, but Tifa hadn’t exactly been able to help him sort through all of those memories and they hadn’t been the most important to get back, at the time. On the other hand, though… 

“I _think_ I might remember somebody like that,” he said. “He had one of those...um, sort of pointy-faced helmets, right?” He’d know a SOLDIER helmet the moment he saw one, but it was hard to describe without having directly seen one in so many years. Most SOLDIERs had been too proud to wear them anyway, but he did recall something about there being a guy who was famous on base for apparently never taking his off at all. He was hard-pressed to remember the name, though, if he had ever known it.

“Yeah, I think he and I were good friends,” Zack said, taking another bite of his burger. He swallowed, and then added: “There were others, but I don’t know if you’d know them all either.” He frowned again. “Seems like there were a lot of us...” he muttered.

“There were,” Cloud said gently. “In different divisions. You’re right, that we did um, a lot of monster-fighting.” Plus waging wars, and finding new locations from which to suck the Planet lifeless, but Zack didn’t necessarily need to be reminded of that, he thought. At least not yet.   
  
Zack smiled. “That’s pretty cool,” he said. “Monster-fighting...do you suppose there’s still call for that? I mean, there were a couple that I ran into before I found you, and then there was that bunch in Sector 3…”

“A little,” Cloud admitted. “That’s one of the reasons I still carry a weapon myself; there aren’t quite as many as there used to be, even in Midgar, but they do pop up.”

“Mm,” Zack said, and continued demolishing his last burger.

Cloud ate a potato chip, and then another, and then another before realizing that he was putting off the next big, uncomfortable question. He took a gulp of soda, then a deep breath, and asked: "Zack?"  
  
Naturally, he caught him mid-bite, and had to wait for him to finish chewing and swallowing. It took an effort not to drum his fingers on the table out of sheer nerves, but fuck, he _had_ to ask about this, right? He had to know. Tifa did, too, for that matter.  
  
Zack finishing swallowing, said "Yeah?" and then promptly started taking a sip of his juice. On account of Cloud did _not_ plan for him to choke to death only a few days after becoming not-dead, he let him swallow that, too, before he actually spoke.  When he did, he chose his words very, very carefully.  
  
"Do you...remember anything about the last time you were in Nibelheim?" he said.  
  
Zack tilted his head, clearly thinking about it. He frowned. In fact, he more than just frowned: his brow furrowed —first a little, then a lot— and then pretty much anything that could be described as a 'twinkle' in his eyes vanished. Cloud, watching his face, could almost narrate the process as he went from thinking something like _hmm, I **think** I might remember something...'_ to, finally: ... _ **oh**._  
  
"I'm guessing you do, then," he said softly.   
  
It took a moment before Zack replied and when he did, it was just as soft: "That's...where you got that mako poisoning from..."  
  
"Yes," Cloud said, and after a moment's consideration, placed a hand on one of Zack's. "How much do you remember about that?"   
  
Zack looked at Cloud's hand for a moment, before he rotated his own, to gently grip it. "They were...doing things to us," he said slowly. "They stuck us in these tubes, in the basement? I think..." he bit his lip for a moment. "I got us out of there...that's how we ended up on the run. There was a girl, in a black suit...I think she was supposed to be working for them, but she saw what they'd done to you, how sick it had made you, and she let us go. I think...that's where I got the bike from, with the sidecar? Yeah, actually — that is. It was her. I don't...I don't know if I knew her name, though."   
  
Cloud could feel Zack's grip gradually tightening on his, and gave it a squeeze. "You're doing good, so far," he said. As far as he could tell, that was accurate enough. "Do you remember who...did the things, to us?" he added quietly. Moment of truth, he supposed.  
  
Zack's brow managed to furrow even more, and his lips pinched and pursed as he thought hard. He let out a sound of frustration, and shook his head. "I don't...know if I remember anything other than that," he said. "We had to stay on the run from them for a while, though. I think...I think I might have tried to go home at one point? But...for some reason...I couldn't..." he made a face, and rubbed his forehead. "Ugh, this is giving me a headache..."

Cloud took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This, he thought, was going to take a while. He was tempted to press him for more, press him for memories on Nibelheim at least, see if he could remember what had happened to the original town, but...taking a look at him, it seemed like that might be pushing it. And the last thing he wanted to do, if he really thought about it, was freak him out in the middle of a public restaurant. So instead, he gave his hand another reassuring squeeze and said: "Okay...that's good. I think that's good for now. You did really good, Zack..." he leaned in until Zack looked up to meet his eye. "You finish your food, okay? And feel free to have some of my chips. I'm just gonna go pay the bill real quick. I'll be right back, okay?"  
  
Zack relaxed a little, and nodded. " 'kay..." he said.   
  
Cloud used the excuse of the bill to let them each have a moment to pull themselves together; initially, it had just been for Zack's sake, but he as he walked away from the table, he realized it was for his own, too.   
  
He suddenly had a whole new appreciation for what Tifa went through for him; it was worth it, of course, to help someone you loved. But boy, was it draining. She had more patience than he gave her credit for, and as he approached the counter to pay, he gave himself a mental note to do something nice for her real soon.

"Hey, Strife..."   
  
He almost didn't recognize the rumbling voice, on account of he was more used to hearing it shout than speak quietly. He blinked. "Oh. Hey Bob...I was gonna just settle my bill..." he spotted a couple of pies for sale under the glass of the front counter, and made a snap decision. "Though I think I'll add one of those too — to go, if that's okay?"  
  
"Sure," Bob said. "Blueberry or apple?"  
  
"Apple," he said, thinking of Zack's juice choice. He was sure he'd be okay with the other option, too, but since he couldn't remember for certain that Zack liked blueberries, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.   
  
The man nodded, and pulled one out, slipping it into a box for him. As he did, though, he glanced at him and asked: "You and your buddy okay over there?"  
  
He blinked. "Um...y-yeah...we're fine," he said slowly. He hadn't been expecting the guy to even notice something like that. "Why?"  
  
Bob finished closing the box. "You both kinda got that look," he said. "Like you seen some shit that you're only just now workin' through." He met his eyes, steadily, and in the dim lighting, Cloud knew he was sure to see the distinctive glow. "And you both got the eyes," he added, as if reading his mind. "Don't worry — I'm not one of those skittish idjits  thinks anybody with 'em's a psycho or nothin'. You're just folks, like anybody else; I used to have a friend in SOLDIER, 'fore Midgar got smacked to hell. So I know they took advantage of you boys something fierce, and then the world had to go and fall to pieces on top of _that_. It's a lot for anybody to deal with."  
  
Cloud tensed a little, even as he felt a bit of relief at being accepted like that in the days of mako phobia; he elected not to correct the man on his supposed SOLDIER service. The real truth was more complicated than was worth getting into, and he was close enough, anyway.   
  
"Yeah..." he admitted, choosing to stare at the pie box for a moment. "I only just found him again today. We've been separated a few years now. There's...some stuff he's having trouble with." Which again was an understatement, but not worth elaborating on, he felt.   
  
He saw Bob's shadow shift, as he nodded. "It's good you're there for him, Strife," he said. "Nobody deserves to be alone for that shit."  
  
Cloud, having learned more than once exactly how right he was, nodded back.  
  
"You say hi to Tifa and the kids for me, yeah? And don't be too shy if tryin' to help your buddy starts to put a strain on ya, 'cause that'll happen, most times."  
  
Cloud felt himself relax a little again. Strange how that last bit was actually comforting, but it kinda was. "Thanks," he said, as Bob rang him up, and then blinked at the total. "Oh. Hey, you didn't charge me for the —"  
  
"The pie's on me, kid," he said, shaking his head. "You two need it more than I need the gil today."  
  
Cloud squirmed a little at that. It was touching, he supposed, but it made him feel awkward. He opened his mouth to argue, and Bob interrupted: "Don't worry 'bout it kid. I know you'll be back, and you've spent more'n this thing is worth just today alone. And it's as much for your buddy as for you. Just make sure Tifa and the two lil' rascals each get a slice, all right?"  
  
He softened, and even shot him a smile, albeit a weak one. "All right..."

"You take care, Strife."  
  
"You too, Bob."  
  
He collected Zack, ate the last handful of potato chips —Zack had refused to eat the last of it without him— and picked up his stuff. Zack perked up at the sight of the pie, and even more so when he learned it was intended for all five of them to share. He offered to carry it to the bike for them, and Cloud held the door for him on the way out, glad to see a bounce back in his step.  
  
He shared a look with Bob as he did; nothing big —just a nod of acknowledgement— but it was again oddly comforting. He wondered if he'd technically made a new friend even as he'd found an old one, or if he was just reading too much into the man's kindness. Either way, it was appreciated, and he had a feeling Bob knew it. 

***

Bob watched them go, wiping down the counter in slow, thoughtful circles that were interrupted a moment later by the phone ringing. He sighed. "Never a moment's quiet, eh?" he grumbled, as he picked up. But like a true professional, he managed to at least regain a semblance of courtesy by the time he did. "Bustlin' Bob's Diner, what can I do ya for?"  
  
Anybody watching would have seen his brow furrow momentarily, before his eyes widened and his complexion went as pale as it was capable of.   
  
His mouth worked for a good, long moment before he said:  
  
" _Kunsel_...?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud was more comfortable battling Sephiroth than he is at having an awkward conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the appreciation and support! I'm so moved by it, you have no idea. Ya'll are the reason this chapter is up at all <3 Thank you for being patient, hope it's kinda worth the wait. ^^;; I know it's mostly just conversation.

As they walked back to Fenrir, Cloud thought about how he would have to go about this.   
  
In all honesty, he shouldn’t have promised Zack a place to stay without talking to Tifa first, and in hindsight, he almost kicked himself for not thinking of that. _Almost_ , because well, what the hell else was he going to do? Leave him to fend for himself? The more he talked to him, the more time he spent around him, the more it somehow felt like _Zack_ , the _real_ Zack, and if it were, he’d never forgive himself for not helping.   
  
Not after what the man had sacrificed for him the first time around.

He swallowed, trying to get his throat normal enough to talk, and forced himself to keep his breathing calm and even.  He pulled out his phone, holding it up as he glanced at him. “Zack? I need to make a quick call before we head out, okay?”  
  
“Sure thing!” he replied, and gods, he never really knew how much he had missed that smile until it was back again.

He nodded, flipping open the phone. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Well, better get it over with.  
  
He selected “Seventh Heaven”, and pressed Call.  
  
 _“Hello!”_ came Tifa’s voice, and even through a mediocre connection and a tiny speaker, he’d have recognized it anywhere. _“You’ve reached Seventh Heaven, this is Tifa, how can I help you?”_  
  
“Hey, Tif,” he said, giving a small smile at her professionalism. A nervous smile, though, because it reminded him he was possibly interrupting her in the middle of business. It was pretty close to the lunch rush, still.  “Um, you busy?”  
  
 _“Cloud!”_ she said warmly. _“No, I’ve got a moment. What’s up? Did everything go okay? You’re gonna be home for dinner, right?”_

“Um, yeah,” he said, taking a moment to process all the questions. He’d have to answer them in reverse, he realized. “I’ll definitely be home for dinner. I’m actually just over at Bob’s diner right now, and I’ve got your salvage and stuff, and the deliveries went fine, but...um…”  
  
It was odd, how even over the phone he could swear he saw her stiffen. _“But?”_ she said, and there was a wariness to her voice that he knew meant, _aw hell, what now?_

“Um...there’s...look, something really weird’s happened,” he said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.   
  
_“Weird how?”_ she said.

He bit his lip, and part of him wanted to just blurt out, _‘my dead best friend came back to life, **that’s** weird how _ ’, but refrained. Honestly, part of him wanted to make sure he wasn’t as nuts as a tiny part of him kept telling him that he must be. He knew, intellectually knew, that he wasn’t. But he sort of needed one last confirmation for the sake of his blood pressure, and he knew how crazy it _sounded_ , and he had no idea how to make it sound any less so over the phone.   
  
“I think...it’s best we talk about this in person,” he said finally. “I, um...if it’s okay, though, a...guest might be staying the night?”   
  
He winced at the way his voice went up in pitch, giving away the guilt he was feeling for not asking first. After all, it was _her_ building, and she lived there, too.

 _“Depends on the guest,”_ she said dryly, and he realized she had caught the Guilty Pitch as easily as he had expected her to. But she didn’t sound _too_ mad, did she? He heard her sigh. _“In all likelihood, yes,”_ she said, to his relief. _“But I have to meet them first!”_ she said sternly.  
  
He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Absolutely. Look, I’ll be heading over in a minute, okay? And I’ll...well, I don’t 100% _know_ what’s going on, but I’ll tell you what I can, okay? I _promise,_ ” and he let the weight of that word speak for itself.  
  
No more secrets, damn it. Not from Tifa. Not something like this.

There was a moment where her end of the line went quiet. Then, somehow, he got the impression she relaxed. _“Thank you,”_ she said softly. _“I’ll see you in a few minutes, Cloud.”_

He nodded again. “Yes. I’ll see you in a few.”  
  
He snapped the phone closed, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least _part_ of the hard part was over.   
  
“Wow,” Zack said. “Hope she likes me well enough. Prob’ly shoulda asked before inviting me over, huh?”  
  
He blinked, and glanced over at Zack, realizing he had heard at least his half of the conversation. “Ah…” he said, cheeks flushing. “Y-yeah...I didn’t think of it. But I’m sure she’ll be fine with it,” he added quickly. “I just...needed to give her some warning…”  
  
Zack chuckled, and clapped him on the back.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Spiky. From the sounds of it, it’s her place too, right? And with kids around I’ll understand if she’s wary. That’s just responsible, ya know?”   
  
“Yeah…” said Cloud, trying not to think about how impulsive his decision had really been. It wasn’t, after all, just _his_ home he’d invited him to.

They had reached Fenrir, so at least he’d soon have driving to distract him from that, though.

“Can’t help noticing,” Zack said, raising an eyebrow at him. “That you didn’t mention my name on the phone.”  
  
“It’s...it’s weird!” Cloud muttered defensively. “I wasn’t sure she’d believe me over the phone.”  
  
“Heh, no worries,” Zack replied, slipping into a reassuring smile. “I guess I get why. I’m assuming she knows that I...?”  
  
“Yes,” Cloud said, absorbing himself in the process of giving Fenrir a quick check and settling himself into the driver’s seat. “She knows. I don’t talk about it much, but... she knows, that you were...anyway,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s why I’m pretty sure she’d believe me better if she saw you with her own eyes.”   
  
Unspoken was the thought: _And I’d still believe my **own** eyes better if she saw you, too._ He hated the fact that reality made him question it so much in recent years, but on the other hand, he supposed it was better that he’d _learned_ to question it. Or something.  
  
Zack shrugged, hovering near the back of the bike. “I guess, but...don’t you think it’s probably smart to give her a little more warning than ‘something weird’s happened’? I mean, there’s weird, and then there’s ‘dead guy walking around’ weird, you know?” he said pointedly. “We don’t wanna give her a _heart attack_.”

Cloud winced. “Y-yeah...true,” he admitted. “Look, what we’ll do is, I’ll park around back, and then I’ll go inside and tell her, okay? You’ll just wait at Fenrir —"  
  
“At where?” Zack blinked.  
  
“At...the bike,” Cloud mumbled. “You’ll wait at the bike —”  
  
Zack gave him a knowing smile. “You named the bike,” he said.  
  
“Yes, I named the dang bike,” Cloud muttered. “Look, will you listen for a minute?”  
  
“If you open up the storage compartment so I don’t have to worry about balancing a pie the whole way there, sure.” Zack teased.  
  
“I — oh,” he flushed, and took out the key for it. “S-sorry...forgot.”  
  
“S’alright,” Zack said, taking the key from him. “You got a lot on your mind.”  
  
Cloud snorted. “No kidding…”  
  
“So,” Zack said, as he secured the pie. “I’ll wait at Fenrir, which is the name of your motorcycle — “  
  
“Yes,” Cloud said dryly.   
  
Zack shot him an amused look that confirmed yes, he had still been teasing a little, before nodding. “And then?”   
  
“And then she’ll probably come out to see how crazy I’ve gone,” Cloud said, his tone even drier.   
  
Zack snorted. “Man, remind me to keep an eye on the door. That’s got be an interesting expression to see on a person.”  
  
“Go easy on her,” Cloud warned, Zack’s blitheness hitting a weird sort of nerve. “She’s been through a lot.”

Zack blinked, and looked a bit wounded for a moment, before he hopped on behind him. “Of course I will!” he said. “She’s your friend, right?”  
  
Cloud felt a little sheepish at his reaction, and said, “Yeah...sorry. I just...I’m a little on edge.”  
  
“Well at least you’re in the right city for it,” Zack quipped, and Cloud rolled his eyes as he turned to face the road.   
  
“Yeah, like nobody’s ever made _that_ one before,” he responded, and he heard Zack chuckle behind him, as his arms slipped around him.   
  
It still made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

 

***

 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t considered the fact that Denzel and Marlene would probably be there when he got back, but he hadn’t. Of course they came running though, as soon as they heard Fenrir’s distinctive purr. Apparently Tifa had been too busy to tell them anything yet in the wake of his call with her, though, as they were surprised to see him with a passenger on back.

“Who’s this?” they both asked, almost in sync, as the motor noise began to settle down.   
  
“A...friend,” Cloud said, willing himself not to bite his lip. “He might be staying with us tonight, depending on what Tifa says. Um...”  
  
Zack was a lot less nervous than he was. He grinned at them, gave a cheerful wave, and said: “Hi! You must be Marlene, and Denzel, right?”

They relaxed a little at that, though they shot each other a thoughtful look before glancing back at him.

“Yes,” said Marlene primly. “And you are?”  
  
“Zack,” he replied perkily, and put a hand forward. “Nice to meetcha! Cloud’s told me so much about you guys. How ya doing?”

Denzel shook his hand first, holding his gaze for a moment. Cloud wondered why, until it occurred to him that he might be noticing the mako glow. Hard to say, in the lighting, whether he’d have seen it or not.

“Fine,” Denzel said politely. “And you?”  
  
“Ha!” Zack said. “Definitely pretty good today, I’d say.”

 _No kidding_ , Cloud thought. Out loud, though, he said: “Tifa still inside?”  
  
The kids were more interested in Zack than in whatever perfunctory permission Cloud needed to get, and simply nodded.   
  
He took a deep breath, and told himself that given he had taken down the world’s most dangerous superhuman individual several times over, a couple of which had been by himself and one of which had been an entirely mental battle, this should be a piece of cake. Right? Just a conversation, right?   
  
His vicious cycle of convincing himself this conversation was in fact more terrifying than Sephiroth was interrupted by Zack clapping him on the back.

He turned to look back at him, and found Zack was giving him a soft, understanding look.

“Don’t worry about it so much beforehand, Spiky. Just walk in there, start at the beginning, and tell the truth. The more you hang around out here worrying about what you’re gonna say or how you’re gonna say it, the more likely she’ll end up finding out with any explanation at all first, ya know?”

He frowned, but it was pretty hard to argue with that logic. He sighed. “Right…” he muttered. Zack gave him another affectionate pat on the back, and he started in.   
  
He shouldn’t have been surprised that it was so busy, given it was around the Late Lunch period, but he somehow was; Tifa was too busy mixing drinks at the bar to leave it. He decided not to consider it too much of a bad thing, though, considering that if the kids had still heard Fenrir and wandered out to meet him over all this noise, she would have too, and boy, that conversation would have gone a little differently.

He managed to catch her eye, and she nodded to him, before leaning over the counter to speak to what he now realized was, of all people, Rude.   
  
The man nodded to her, and as she finished mixing the drink she’d been working on, she called out: “Okay, break time for the barmaid! Any more drink orders’ll have to wait!”   
  
Cloud tried very hard not to let his heart jump into his throat at that, and failed.

She pulled him aside, up the stairs a little ways. She gave him a sharp look, and muttered: “Okay. What. _Happened._ ”

He fought not flinch at that, but was pretty sure his eye twitched.

He had attempted, as he drove over, even as he walked in, to come up with a slow, careful way of describing what was going on. In the face of those intense brown eyes though, he found himself struggling to remember the finer points of it. She began to frown, her brow furrowing at him, and her eyes not any less piercing, and instead of all the carefully-worded ease-intos that he’d considered, what actually came out was:  
  
“ _Zacksalive_.”  
  
It was so melodramatically blunt that he actually gave in to the temptation to wince, even _before_ what he had said fully registered with her.  
  
And boy, that was some reaction when it did.   
  
Her eyes widened, first; a look of pure surprise, that transitioned into worry, and confusion, her lips parting and then wavering as if she couldn’t decide what to even ask.  
  
He swallowed, and took a breath, and clarified before she could get the wrong idea.

“I mean, he still—it’s just, he’s been brought back. Or... _come_ back, anyway. I —”  
  
“ _How?_ ” she said, finally settling on the obvious. There was a flicker of fear, suspicion even, in her eyes which made him want to squirm, because he had a feeling he knew exactly why it was there.  
  
He let out a frustrated breath. “We don’t know.”  
  
“ ‘We’? ” she said.   
  
“He says he doesn’t remember how or why it happened,” he replied, and he allowed himself to bite his lip a little, because the tiny, sharp pain gave him a weird sort of focus. “Tifa...he says...that he woke up in the flowers at Aerith’s church.”  
  
He heard and saw the subtle intake of breath at that, the almost imperceptible way her pupils dilated and contracted, signs of a tiny surge of adrenaline that she was keeping tightly under control.   
  
“I see,” she said a moment later, her tone careful and even. “And when did this happen?”   
  
“He says it was a couple days ago. Um…” he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering away instinctively. Fuck Sephiroth, eye contact was a hell of a lot scarier right now.   
  
“Um what?” she said dryly.

But gently, he realized. He glanced back up and found her looking at him with a look that was actually somewhat tender. She was, he realized, half-teasing him.  
  
He sighed, at least some of the tension leaving him as he realized that though she was shocked, she wasn’t freaking out. He didn’t know why he’d thought she would; she’d been his rock often enough that he should have known better. Plus, she’d seen easily as much weird crap as he had.  
  
“He’s having memory issues,” he said, looking at her again, this time more calmly.   
  
Her lips pursed.

“What kind of issues?”  
  
He found his lip quirking a little at the edge. “Well, I guess technically the opposite of mine.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow, and he clarified, losing all trace of humor: “He remembers who he is, mostly. Where he was born, his name, that we used to be friends. He remembers that I had mako poisoning, apparently. But Tifa...he doesn’t remember working for Shinra.”  
  
Another sharp intake of breath, another dilation of pupils, this time with no contraction. She crossed her arms, hugging herself a little.

“That’s... a pretty big thing to forget,” she said. “Are you sure?”  
  
“I’m sure,” he confirmed. “I double-checked, before I brought him here. I took him to lunch at Bob’s, and…” he blew out another frustrated breath. “He remembers monster-fighting. He remembers working with me, little things like details about my infantry uniform, stuff like that? But he doesn’t remember that it was for Shinra. He doesn’t remember it very clearly, and he doesn’t remember anything about Shinra itself. It’s like…”  
  
“Like he might be blocking it out?” she said softly.  
  
He swallowed. “M-maybe. That...had occurred to me, yeah.”   
  
He met her eyes again, and her gaze was calm and steady as she noted: “Or else...maybe he didn’t live it.”  
  
His jaw tightened. “It _feels_ like it’s him, Tifa.” She of all people should know the feeling, he thought, and tried not to be bitter about it.  
  
“I’m not saying it’s the case,” she said, and it was her turn now to fidget in place. “But, Cloud... it’s a possibility.”  
  
He breathed in deep, and let it out slowly.  
  
“I know,” he said finally. “I know, and that crossed my mind, too, believe me. But…”  he trailed off, not sure quite how to explain.  
  
She softened again. “But you have a feeling it’s really him,” she said, and he was relieved she had found the words when he couldn’t.   
  
He nodded.   
  
She looked off to the side for a moment, towards the busy barroom, her fingers tapping on her arm. When she looked back, he could have said the words for her:  
  
“He’s the one you want to have stay the night.”

It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.  
  
“Yes,” he said anyway, because it deserved acknowledgement.

It was her turn to blow out a breath. “Cloud...I don’t know about this. With the kids here…”  
  
“He could stay in my room,” Cloud said. “I could make sure he’s disarmed when he stays here, and that I’m always next to him. It would minimize the risk if...you know.”  
  
She shot him a dry look. “Disarmed,” she said.   
  
He squirmed a little. “He...has the Buster Sword with him.”  
  
She sighed. “Of course he does,” she muttered.   
  
“In fairness,” Cloud pointed out. “He doesn’t remember dying, so...to his mind, he remembered it being his anyway.”

She looked at him again, her eyes searching though less terrifyingly penetrating than they had been before. “You asked him about that, too?”  
  
He found himself rolling his shoulder, an unconscious fidget.

“Well...not so much ‘asked’, as...blurted out,” he admitted. “I mean...I...was pretty freaked out at first, when he popped up and I realized it was him.”  
  
He kind of wished he hadn’t noticed the look of sympathy she gave him for that.

“I can imagine,” she said.   
  
“I thought I was hallucinating for a while,” he confessed. “Or...I dunno. He didn’t even seem surprised to be there, at all. It just...threw me. But he really doesn’t seem to remember it. He seemed — he was shocked, when I told him he’d been dead.”  
  
“How did he react?” she asked.  
  
“He was pretty sure I was wrong until I told him I saw it for myself,” Cloud said dryly. “He believes me now, I think, especially since he doesn’t remember anything in between. But he was pretty surprised to hear it.”

“Hm,” she said, frowning again.  
  
“I know,” he sighed. “I know, it’s...complicated. Confusing. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but…” he looked to her, silently pleading, and after a moment she sighed herself.  
  
“Yeah...it’s Zack,” she said. “That makes it different.”  
  
He rolled his other shoulder, trying to get some of the tension out and largely failing. “Also, I mean...Tifa, he’s been _alone_ ,” he said. “Since he...woke up there. He didn’t wake up with hardly anything. I mean, he has a set of clothes. But he didn’t...he didn’t have anything else. _Anything._ There was the Buster Sword, which was in the Church, but that was it. No gil, no food, no memory of where he lived. No safe place to sleep. And he wasn’t here for Meteorfall, Tifa. Or anything past then. He just...he walked out of that Church to find a world that had half- _ended_ , and he didn’t run into anybody he knew until he found me salvaging in the city today...” He had meant to continue, but the lump in his throat made it hard to do.

He didn’t know whether to feel guilty or just relieved, when she looked as stricken as he felt, and shifted one of her own shoulders uncomfortably. “No _food?_ ” she whispered.

“None,” he confirmed, after swallowing around the lump. “He said the only thing he’d eaten before I bought him lunch today was a half-eaten burger he found in some _dumpster_ , Tifa. And I don’t think he was lying about that, because he kinda didn’t wanna talk about it, but his stomach was growling like a Behemoth.”

“No wonder you stopped at Bob’s,” she muttered. “Poor guy…”

“And he still has mako eyes, Tif,” he said, his tone pleading by now, which he hadn’t intended but couldn’t help. “You know how people are these days...nobody would talk to him before I did, and he didn’t even remember enough about himself or SOLDIER or Shinra to know _why_.”

She let out a deeper sigh. “Yes,” she said, almost grudgingly. “I do know how people are.”

“And he saved my skin, over in Midgar today,” he added. “I got swarmed by some monsters when I was salvaging, and the first thing he did when he showed up was he jumped right in to help and took out this one that was about to —”  
  
“Alright already,” she said, laughing softly. “I get the picture. You’re sure it’s really him, and you don’t think he’s a threat, and you want to help. _I get it_ , Cloud.”

He blinked, and stared for a moment.   
  
The look she was giving him wasn’t angry, though there was a hint of what he could only call amused frustration.

“So…” he started, then stopped, wanting to ask the question but somehow afraid of voicing it.

She rolled her eyes. “He can stay,” she said. “But!” She raised a finger. “Because this is out of the blue, and we have no idea why it’s happening, there are some conditions.”

He straightened, and nodded, and it would only be later that it would occur to him that he was oddly glad for her to take charge like that.   
  
“First,” she said. “Like you said: he stays in your room.” He nodded, and she continued. “You stay armed or close to your weapon at all times, and while he’s in this house or around the kids, _he isn’t_ ; I don’t know or care where you want to put the Buster Sword, but I don’t want that Behemoth of a blade anywhere near the kids if we don’t know what’s going on with the person who’s holding it.”

He frowned, but nodded. It was a reasonable request, given the circumstances.

“And finally,” she said, “You keep an eye on him. And until we know _exactly_ what is going on here and can be completely sure it’s safe, you _never_ leave him alone around the kids.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
And then stiffened.  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh hell.  
  
Tifa must have caught the way he tensed, because her eyes narrowed. “Cloooud,” she said.   
  
“Um,” he said.

He caught her eyes flash with a spark of anger. “Do you want to tell me,” she said coldly. “Why it is that you suddenly look so guilty.”

“Well…” he said, feeling more helpless than he had when pinned by Masamune. “I – I wanted to talk to you before I just showed up with —”  
  
“They’re with him now,” she said tersely. “Aren’t they.”  
  
He found he couldn’t meet those eyes, but hey, at least he had a good excuse. “They, uh, heard Fenrir and came running when I parked,” he said, moving out of the stairwell and towards the door. “So —”  
  
“So you thought it would be okay to just leave him, _with_ the Buster Sword, around Marlene and Denzel, who are unarmed. Without talking to me about it first. In these circumstances,” she said, and he was irrationally glad she couldn’t see him wince from behind him.

“I —wasn’t thinking,” he said, as he headed out the back.

He paused just long enough to hold the door for her, and then rushed back to where he’d parked.  
  
Personally, he hadn’t expected there to be trouble, but he was still relieved when there wasn’t. Partly because yes, if anything had happened to the kids, he’d never have forgiven himself, but mostly because Tifa never would have either.

She was right behind him, and he stepped to the side so she wouldn’t bump into him, and so that she had a perfect view of the scene of Zack sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk, leaning back on both hands as he chatted with Marlene and Denzel.

Granted, the Buster Sword always cut a dramatic, Don’t-Fuck-With-Me outline, but it was a lot less threatening just sitting on someone’s back, especially when that person’s hair was being played with by a little girl.

“Like what?” he was asking her, as they skidded around the corner.   
  
“Like a braid,” she said. “It would keep it from snagging on things, and you could put flowers in it.”  
  
“He doesn’t want flowers in his hair, Marlene,” Denzel said. “Who would want flowers in their hair? He should just cut it shorter, like Cloud does.”  
  
“Hey,” Zack said, with a look that was somewhere between a pout and an overdramatic frown. “I kinda like my hair long in the back. And flowers are nice! When I was living in Midgar, they were really hard to find!” He turned to them, winked, and said: “What do you think, Cloud? Marlene thinks I could rock a braid.”  
  
“And Denzel is a fuddy-duddy,” Marlene added.

“I...uh,” said Cloud, not expecting this to be the topic of conversation.

Tifa, to his surprise, laughed.

He glanced at her and she said:  
  
“Okay. Yeah, that’s him.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shower thoughts and awkward conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I want to thank all my readers for sticking with me this on this slow to update fic. Your frequent comments of encouragement and questions on the status of the fic did actually help me get this chapter done!)

He hadn’t realized just how much he was missing, Cloud thought to himself. Watching Zack chattering and joking with the kids, everyone smiling and relaxed...it caused the oddest pang in his chest. It was strange, really, how much more obvious his loss became when his own eyes told him it had been reversed. As if a wound that he’d thought had healed, hadn’t, and had just been _poked_.  
  
He shook his head, trying to get himself away from such thoughts. It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on the feeling if he could help it. They had other priorities right now.  
  
“Zack,” he said. “How would you like a hot shower?”  
  
One look at his face told Cloud that Zack _very much_ would like a hot shower. His enthusiastic groan of “That sounds _amazing_!” was unnecessary, but sincere.  
  
“All right then,” Cloud replied. “You head on in and head upstairs for that, I’ll catch Tifa up a little and get the stuff inside.”  
  
“You sure you don’t want help with all that?” Zack said, pausing right as he was about to get up.   
  
A reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Cloud, who knew exactly what it felt like to feel you were taking more than you gave.  
  
So he snorted dismissively. “It’s a pie and a bag of junk. Have you seen the size of my weapon?”  
  
He felt a surge of triumph at the smile that elicited. “Fair enough,” Zack chuckled. “I guess you can lift a couple extra pounds, huh?”  
  
“A pie?” Marlene said. They glanced at the kids, and sure enough, both had perked up in interest. “You brought a pie?”  
  
“Yup,” Cloud said. “A whole one, for us to share. Picked it up at Bob’s. He says ‘hi’ by the way,” he said, as he started unpacking the rear compartment.  
  
“Ooh,” Marlene said. “It’s from Bob’s!? That means it’s really good!”  
  
Tifa smiled at that—she often did, seeing Cloud doing little things like that for the people he cared about and especially the kids—but she turned to Zack first. “I’ve gotta get back to the bar since it’s still busy, but I’ll point you to the shower on the way in. We’ll dig into the pie sometime after lunch rush is over, okay?”

He nodded in answer, and got up to follow her, all hesitation forgotten. “Sure!” he said. “Sounds good.”   
  
“Mmhm,” she replied. She couldn’t help watching him as he got up, though she attempted not to stare—at least not obviously. She had no trouble believing there was _something_ of him there, but it was even harder for her to say how much; after all, she’d barely met him before…well. _Before._  
  
She hoped, for Cloud’s sake, that it truly was the real deal.   
  
She decided that if it wasn’t, someone was going to have _hell_ to pay.

 

***

On the outskirts of Edge, was a man in a red coat.    
  
He was heading towards the ruins of Midgar.   
  
He was planning to go to Church.

***

  
Cloud and Tifa both made it as clear as they could to Marlene and Denzel that Zack had some “problems” and not to push him on certain...issues.

It was a sad fact of life that enough people in the world these days—including Cloud and Tifa themselves—were so damaged that they accepted this without question and without need of further clarification.  

Granted, though, they were just...good kids in general, really. They put away the pie without, he was pretty sure, sneaking a taste. They even volunteered to do some of the necessary prep for a guest...such as making sure Cloud hadn’t been too lazy to change the sheets on the cot in his office. It doubled sometimes as his bedroom and occasionally as a guest room, and often got forgotten on laundry day.  
  
Come to think of it, Cloud was still unsure of how the hell those sleeping arrangements were going to work, if he was supposed to be staying in the same room as Zack. There was only one bed in there and it was pretty obviously meant for one person at a time, but he supposed he’d figure it out when they got there. In the meantime, he  made sure Zack would have some clean towels (...and underwear, for Odin’s sake!) once he got out of the shower.   
  
And then hovered near Tifa, helping out in the bar when needed but mostly trying to quickly and surreptitiously fill her in on what bits he’d figured out Zack still recalled and what he hadn’t.  
  
Or at least that was the plan, until he realized that 90% of that topic right now was “stuff relating to the destruction of Nibelheim”. Which was a sensitive topic for the both of them on the best of days.  It was especially embarrassing to catch her catching _him_ looking at her guiltily, and see the look in her eyes that clearly asked: _Are You Doing That Incredibly Goddamn Frustrating Thing Again? You Know, The THING? That Thing You Keep Saying You Won’t Do Anymore? THAT Thing?_   
  
Eventually, the bulk of the Lunch Rush crowd was gone, and she had Marlene and Denzel actually take over for her at the bar while she dragged Cloud out back.   
  
“Okay. What’s with the looks you’ve been giving me? Is there something you’ve been leaving out?”  
  
“No…” Pause. Sigh. “...yes.”  
  
She crossed her arms, waiting expectantly. He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s...about Nibelheim,” he said softly, and at that he saw her tense for a moment, before relaxing.  
  
Probably not natural relaxation, he thought; more like the forced, conscious choice to relax one’s muscles. As a martial artist she had long since taught herself to keep her body a little looser, to avoid muscle strain, cramps, or stiffness.  
  
“I see,” she said, and her voice was calm on the surface. He knew her enough to hear the wariness though.  “What about it?”  
  
He let out a breath. “I just...it’s...just not easy to bring up,” he muttered. “But, that was the bulk of our conversation at Bob’s…”  
  
At this point he wondered if she was physically relaxed because she was still trying to be, or simply because it was easier now that she knew why the hell That Subject was getting brought up. It was hard to tell.    
  
“What does he remember?” she said. Her tone was guarded, but comfortingly neutral, he thought.   
  
“Not much,” he replied. “He remembers having met you— even that...cowgirl outfit,” and here he saw her flinch—just a little, just barely and reflexively. What he wouldn’t give for the only reason for that wince to be Oh Goodness What Regrettable Fashion Choices I Made As a Teenager. He swallowed, and continued. “But he...well…” he let his breath out in a slightly frustrated huff.   
  
“He doesn’t remember what happened, does he,” she said, meeting his gaze levelly.   
  
“No,” he admitted. “Hell, I haven’t even worked up the nerve to ask about Sephiroth yet. But he obviously doesn't remember what happened to the town...or...us, afterward.”  
  
“That is a hell of a gap,” she muttered, but her tone was more worried than skeptical. She was nibbling her lip a little.

“I think he might be...actively blocking it out,” Cloud said carefully. Tifa almost imperceptibly tilted her head, but waited for him to continue. “He not only had trouble recalling certain specifics about the Nibelheim disaster itself, or details about ShinRa or what we used to do for a living, he actually seemed to get...well...a headache, when we tried to push on those subjects.”  
  
She took in a slow breath, and let it out even slower. “I see,” she said. After a moment, she glanced up again and when she met his eye, gave him a slightly wry smile. “Certainly sounds familiar...”  
  
He snorted. “Tell me about it…” he said. He meant it to come out blithe; instead, it came out kind of a worried mutter.  
  
After all, if what Zack was going through was _anything_ like what he had—and boy, did it increasingly seem like it, much as he hated to admit it—they might have their hands full helping him recover. But he’d be willing. It would be worth it, especially for Zack.  
  
But on the other hand…  
  
On the other hand, he was so... _certain_ , back then, during the bullshit with the Remnants, when he had been in battle with Sephiroth and his body dancing merrily along the line between life and death, that Zack had come to him through the Lifestream. Had spoken to him, encouraged him…  
  
...as if he had **remembered**.

_“Okay, so you never actually made SOLDIER, but—”_

If that was Zack—and Cloud had been completely convinced at the time that it was, really— then he had clearly remembered something about SOLDIER and thus ShinRa, right?  
  
So...why couldn’t he remember it _now_?

What the hell had _changed_?

  
***

Zack was starting to remember why he liked hot showers.

Tense muscles uncoiling in the heat, skin tingling at the gentle spray, and over two days of sweat and grime swirling down the drain was a very, very nice change. It was almost up there with seeing Cloud again, he thought.

Cloud…  
  
He was starting to worry he might be a bit of a burden on him. If nothing else, he’d obviously made things more complicated for him and probably more stressful, too. He was pretty sure Tifa was tense just having him around, and regardless of whether there was Something More going on between them, they were still part of a family; Zack could tell that even if he hadn’t been told, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up for them. Especially…  
  
Cloud.   
  
His mind kept going back to him; it couldn’t not.   
  
So few things made sense lately. He had been starting to get really discouraged, restless and lost and then…  
  
Then Cloud came along.   
  
And he had spotted that unmistakable chocobo’s crest of sunny blond hair, and the name had come to him, and it sang in his mind, felt like coming home, somehow.

And suddenly it hadn’t mattered that he barely knew who he was, or why he was there or what the hell had trashed the hell out of the place he was pretty sure he used to live in. Suddenly, even having been shunned and starved and cold and dirty for a couple of days was nothing—was worth it, because even if he didn’t know why he was there, he had found a reason to stay. Like he’d found his purpose, somehow, and because of that, everything would be okay...

Granted, learning he’d apparently been bloodily killed in front of the guy and dead for a few years kinda put a damper on that.   
  
He tried not to think on that too much. The memory of Cloud’s face, in tears, as he described watch—

He gave his head a rough shake. No. No, he didn’t want to remember that. Better to think of Cloud’s smirk, or his flustered reaction at being teased, or—or even that empathetic look he’d given him while talking in the restaurant, or —   
  
Or anything, really. Anything that wasn’t Cloud crying. Anything that wasn’t that _look_ , like his heart was being ripped out...   
  
He dunked his head under the water again. Ran his hands through his hair to help the worryingly grimy soap escape. It needed to be a little more vigorous than expected, and was as good a distraction as any from all those thoughts that he decided were much, much better shoved way the hell down right now.

Besides, he reminded himself: there were some clean clothes, and clean towels, and _Cloud_ waiting for him after the shower. And Cloud had _pie_! That just seemed like a stupendous combination to him, really. He smiled to himself at the thought.

He was whistling by the time he turned the water off.

 


	5. (Post-Shower Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa lays out the ground rules for Zack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (there used to be longer notes on this, but I feel like they're now unnecessary and destroy the flow - I insist on retaining shout out to RedHero though, really inspired me to work on this chapter!)

 

 

To Zack’s surprise, it wasn’t Cloud that met him outside of the bathroom, but Tifa, leaning against the wall.  
  
He grinned at her. “Good thing I’m wearin’ a towel down there, huh?” he said, rubbing a smaller, second one against his still-wet hair. _Also good that I remembered how to tie one_ , he thought to himself.  
  
She snorted, but mostly ignored the comment. “Listen. I’m okay with you staying here, but there’s going to be some ground rules.”

He blinked, but nodded slowly. “Sure,” he said. It made sense; after all, this _was_ her place.  
  
He had expected the first rule to be something like “don’t curse around the kids”, or maybe “clean up after yourself”; instead, she cut right to the chase, and it was a blow right to the heart.  
  
“First: you’re not to be alone with either of the kids again.” She must have seen his face, because she held up a hand, adding: “Look, I _know._ I know you’re _probably_ not going to hurt them. But, I _also_ know that don’t know you that well yet, and that there’s a hell of a lot of _other_ things that are just weird about this whole situation. I’m not saying you’re _actually_ going to hurt them; I’m saying that for my own peace of mind, for now, you need to try to stick around either Cloud, or myself. Or failing that, one of our friends who we already trust with the kids.”  
  
“Well,” he said sheepishly. “When you put it _that_ way…”  
  
“Also,” she continued, not even waiting for him to agree. “When you’re around the kids? This — ” and to his surprise, she not only lifted the Buster Sword from where it was resting against the wall, but hefted it right onto her shoulder, like it weighed _nothing_  — “does not stay on you, or in your reach, especially without Cloud or I present. For now, it’s staying in the master bedroom, with me.”  
  
The shock of seeing such a tiny person lifting it like that — and okay, he could tell she had muscle underneath, but not _that_ kind of muscle — almost distracted him from the shock of what she had said.  
  
“What!?” he blurted. “But —”  
  
“This weapon could cleave a man in _two_ ,” she said firmly. “ _And_ it has materia slots. Hell, you could probably kill someone their size with just the flat of the thing. Either it stays in my room, or you don’t stay in Cloud’s.”

That gave him pause. “...I’m staying in Cloud’s room?” he said, momentarily distracted from the angst of being separated from literally his only belonging.  
  
“If you can follow by those ground rules, then yes.”

There was a moment where she just sort of stared at him, and he just sort of stared at her; her expression calm and unwavering, his a muddled confusion of emotion.  
  
The reminder of who it was that had invited him here — and for that matter, who it was that had fed him, had brought him here, was willing to loan him a hot shower and clean clothes and apparently share a room with him — was what finally grounded him enough to recover.  
  
“Okay,” he sighed. “I mean...it’s your house and all.”  
  
“Damn right,” she said, though with a slight twitch of the lip that seemed oddly friendly to him. She gestured to a doorway, on her way past him. “Cloud left you a change of clothes in there; you can get dressed, and come down for pie when you’re ready. Cloud’s downstairs. We’ll both meet you down there.”

She disappeared into a different room, and he tried not to think about how weirdly painful it was to see someone else walk off with his sword.

In the end, he just said, “Okay…” followed by an impulsive, weirdly anxious: “But...be careful with that, okay? It means a lot to me…”  
  
“I will,” she called back, as the door closed.  
  
He stood there in the hall a moment longer, staring at that door, still dripping from the shower, and wondering:  
  
Why _did_ a hunk of sharp metal mean so much to him?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack gets nosy and Tifa's uneasy.

The clothes he’d been left were clean, and smelled a bit like Cloud, as if they’d been washed in the same soap as him or something. That realization was kind of soothing, actually, and as he dressed he let himself cool off from the residual pangs of loss that, he had to force himself to realize, weren’t really _loss_ , since Tifa had said nothing about him having the Buster Sword on him when the kids _weren’t_ around. Right? So it wasn’t really _taken_ , it was just...somewhere he couldn’t use it all the time. For the safety of the kids, no less.  
  
Yeah, that still stung more than it logically should.  
  
The room he’d been directed to was small, and slightly messy, and impossible not to be nosy about, especially when he had things like that that he needed to take his mind off of. It helped that signs of Cloud were absolutely everywhere, and a bit intriguing:  
  
A desk, covered in delivery slips and scribbled notes and a ledger that he assumed helped Cloud and/or Tifa keep track of the finances for one or both businesses. Shelving, that had a surprising variety of books on it including some important-looking medical texts. A half-full wastepaper bin. An old, probably salvaged wooden nightstand that sported a Chocobo Racing trophy and a set of tabletop photo frames.  
  
The pictures included one of Cloud with Tifa, Marlene, Denzel and a large, dark-skinned dude with an odd prosthetic arm that _had_ to be Barret Wallace. Cloud had mentioned the guy was Marlene’s extremely devoted father, and the way he positively radiated affection for her in the photo was impossible to miss. It actually made him smile a little, and he thought to himself that it might be nice to meet the guy sometime; he had a feeling he’d like him.

There was also a picture of all five of them with an even bigger group of extremely varied individuals, who were most likely friends, rather than any kind of formal family. At least a couple of them looked vaguely familiar; he frowned thoughtfully at a young, spunky-looking Wutaian girl in particular, but couldn’t _quite_ place her.    
  
He wondered how many ‘little things’ like that there would be — things that he _felt_ like he should remember, but couldn’t, things just out of reach of his recall. So far it seemed like a lot. So far it seemed like more ‘little things’ were being forgotten, than remembered.

It was starting to be a little unsettling.

He sighed, and carefully set the picture down again where he had found it.

 

***  
  


Tifa felt a bit bad about doing this, given the look on his face when she’d given him the Rules. But she had dealt with enough not-so-wacky antics involving people who were supposed to be dead as it was without taking a bigger chance than she had to...and given what had happened to the kids the _last_ time that kind of weirdness had happened, she couldn’t help but think that she was being about as generous as she _could_ be. Just letting him stay here at all was an enormous risk, given all the unknowns.   
  
As it was, she was trying not to let her nerves go to hell at the prospect of “Zack” sharing a room with a sleeping Cloud. A sleeping, vulnerable Cloud...  
  
But, granted...damned if she couldn’t help but feel for him. She barely knew him, sure — which did not help — and maybe some of this was because of how Cloud felt, how impossible it was for Cloud not to feel like he owed Zack pretty much everything, and how difficult it was for her not to care about things that important to him. But…  
  
She sighed, as she stowed the sword carefully in the closet.   
  
But. She had a soft spot for hard-luck cases, too. For the vulnerable.   
  
For people who needed someone, and had no one.  
  
“Zack” was pressing all her empathetic buttons so hard that it was a little alarming.  
  
Which was exactly why she refused to not take _some_ precautions; she’d be damned if she would let anything happen to the kids. Or Cloud, either, but at least Cloud admitted he’d had some of the same thoughts; he was a lot more...biased, probably, but he’d be less likely to actually be  _killed_ , than the kids. And... even if he were...  
  
Cloud knew the risk. Knew, and had accepted it.  
  
Because Cloud was a good person. Because Cloud didn’t turn his back on his friends. Because there wasn’t a good thing in his life that he didn’t cherish, and the ability to be alive to enjoy it in the first place was _definitely_ on that list. And she knew as well as he did that if it hadn’t been for Zack, he’d have never had that.

In fact, it was so very _predictable_ that Cloud and even Tifa would welcome him into their very home, that some tiny part of her _clenched_ inside.   
  
Because it would be the perfect lure, wouldn’t it? The perfect Trojan Horse. The best possible way —the easiest, certainly— to slide right past their guard to where they were most vulnerable: their empathy.   
  
It’d be just _like_ Sephiroth, really, to pull something like that. Wouldn’t it? To turn a beautiful strength into a weakness, into nothing more than an opportunity to exploit. Forcing a friend to betray a friend was right up his alley, and just because he hadn’t done it with Zack _before_ , didn’t mean he never _would_. Especially if he realized exactly how much Zack had meant to Cloud.

So help her, if this _was_ a trap, she was going to rain hell and Final Heavens on whoever and whatever set it up. Even and _especially_ if it were Sephiroth.

In the meantime, there was pie downstairs, and people waiting for her.

***

  
In the Church in Sector 5, a wooden pew was set on fire.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fire at the Church warrants investigation, and dessert goes well...before going very badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm so relieved to have this completed you have no idea. There's a scene here of a PTSD-type flashback that was grueling to write and which I've been dancing around for months, but is finally, finally, out of my head and onto the page and I think I've edited this chapter a million times fussing with every little thing to the extent that now I'm pretty sure I'm just being picky, so it's time to call it 'done'. Hope you enjoy!)

  
Down in the Church District, a handful of people scurried out of its namesake. It wouldn’t be terribly hard to see why, as preceding the evacuation was a flash, a crackling sound, and a brief flickering, not unlike one might see in, say, a fire.  
  
This would be because there was a fire.

And because, judging from the gasped responses of the fleeing visitor Cait Sith questioned, said fire did not have _natural_ causes.  
  
Hm. Curious. Curious, and worrisome, of course. The AI could think of no _good_ reason why anyone would set off a Fire spell in the Church, which left only _bad_ ones. Well, bad, or stupid ones.  
  
Cait Sith had long since learned to appreciate that human behavior could not always be made sense of, after all.  
  
The bot sent his master a High Priority ping with the keywords “Sector 5 Church”,”fire”, and “unauthorized materia use”, before engaging Stealth Mode and carefully springing his way up to the roof.  
  
The reply came even sooner than he had expected; apparently Reeve wasn’t particularly busy or distracted, or it could have been a couple of minutes before he had responded. This was both good, and somewhat useless, Cait thought. After all, he had barely begun his investigation.

Most people would have first asked “what happened?” Reeve, however, knew better. The keywords alone spoke volumes, and so his first message was:  
  
_Casualties?_  
  
_Unknown_ — _investigating,_ Cait replied. _Several civilians seen fleeing (none of those injured); Suspect described as roughly average height, likely male, short red or brown hair, wearing red and black; no known provocation for attack as of yet_.

 _Keep me updated,_ Reeve responded.  
_  
_ _Of course,_ Cait said. _Stealthed on roof. Will let you know if security or fire services needed._

There was no response to that, because there didn’t need to be. Reeve understood the necessity for what a human would call focus — or in his case, devoted processing power.

Entering the Church through the roof—stealthily, at least—was no longer possible, as the roof had long since been repaired. That said, the former hole in it had been replaced by a proper skylight, so as to allow the famous flowers some sun. Which still allowed for some degree of visual investigation without getting near the...Person of Interest.

Cait Sith might be durable, but he wasn’t programmed to be stupid.  
  
_Confirmed description of Suspect_ , he messaged. _Uploading photos now_ — _view is poor from this angle but it’s better than nothing._

As he sent the pictures of their little flamethrower, he allowed himself to idle, but kept visuals online; though he was no longer setting things on fire, the man’s posture still read as _tense_ , and his body heat signature was cause for alarm. Nothing could be confirmed without getting closer, of course, but that kind of signature, aside from being consistent with Anger, was also consistent with —  
  
_Suspect likely mako enhanced,_ he concluded. _Appears agitated. Should be considered armed & dangerous. Fire crew might still be needed. Troops recommended, but try the diplom _  
  
It was only too late that he noticed the man’s attention swinging directly to him.

***

Cloud was starting to wonder what was taking them so long. Zack he could understand —anybody in his position would savor a hot shower— but what was keeping Tifa?  
  
He got his answer a moment later, though not in the most pleasant of ways.

He was taking the pie out of the oven—having chosen to warm it up a little, because why not?— when Tifa came up behind him with a little too little warning.  “It’s in my closet,” she said, and only his well-honed reflexes saved the pie from going splat, or either of them from getting splattered.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Didn’t mean to —”  
  
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, willing himself still. “Just...a little jumpy is all. And...distracted.”  
  
“Mm,” she hummed, nodding. “He’ll be right down—just getting dressed. And I already explained the rules to him for staying here, so you don’t have to worry about that.”  
  
“Oh,” he said, secretly relieved. Then it occurred to him what the “it” was that was in her closet. “Wait, you put the Buster — “  
  
“Yes,” she said. “And you’re not to tell him where it is, either. If you two go out and you decide to take it with you, _you’re_ the one I want grabbing it, understand?”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit…”

“After all the craziness we’ve seen, don’t tell me you, of all people, are going to call me ‘paranoid’,” she said drily.

“...fair enough,” he muttered. “But what if something happens? Something where —”  
  
“Where _I_ can’t handle it?” she challenged, raising her own eyebrow. “Or where _you_ can’t? Because even if he's better than the average First Class, _you’re_ better than the _best_ First Class. I’m not sure I wanna know what can get through _both_ of us and still need to go through him.”  
  
“...also fair enough,” he said, after a long moment of increasingly warming cheeks.  
  
Granted, it was probably—technically— _literally_ true. But that tiny scrap of him that was still a tiny scrapper, felt more pleased than it should have at the compliment. All the more so because it was said as a plain truth, rather than out of any intent to flatter.

She smirked at him, eyes sparkling. She knew exactly why he was blushing, he realized.  
  
He attempted to scowl, out of embarrassment, but she just laughed, called him “adorable”, and gave him a playful punch in the arm on the way to the table he’d already set for five. The fact that she was probably restraining about 99% of her strength to keep it from hurting, was not lost on him.

Yeah, she had a point.

Marlene practically leaped up from her chair next to the bar as he started heading to the table with the dessert, fidgeting slightly until he passed her before blurting out “I’ll get the milk!” and scurrying to the kitchen. Denzel rolled his eyes and said he’d get the coffee “as soon as she’s out of the way.”  
  
A smile ghosted over his lips; not just at their behavior, but at the thought of how Barret himself would grin at it—particularly Marlene’s. The big softie.  
  
Hm. Come to think of it, they might need to call him soon, if things were getting...weird.  
  
He managed to keep the flinch at the thought internal, which was good, since Zack chose that moment to come down the stairs.

“Oh wow!” he said, taking an appreciative sniff. “That smells amazing! You warmed it up?”  
  
“Mmhm,” Cloud said. “Took a while, since the oven’s been slow to warm these days, but it’s fresh out of it.”

“Awesome!” Zack chirped. Then, as Marlene came out with the milk jug — old-school glass, because oil-based things like plastics were far too valuable these days to waste on ‘disposable’ food containers: “Oh! Here, let me get that, huh?”  
  
“I can do it,” Marlene insisted, but she looked a little hesitant, as if she were considering it anyway.  
  
“Of course,” Zack nodded sagely. “But that doesn’t mean you _have_ to, right?”  
  
This resulted in Zack naturally carrying it the rest of the whopping six feet to the table, before graciously offering to pull out Marlene’s chair for her. Which apparently she was delighted with, given how much theatrically prim grace she put into sitting in it.  
  
Cloud snorted. “Careful, or you’ll wind up with a very tiny girlfriend,” he said, before realizing that, as far as _Zack_ probably knew, he still _had_ one. And...who that girlfriend had been.  
  
And how Zack had never made it back to her, before…  
  
Before either of them…  
  
His throat suddenly felt very dry.

He felt a tap on his ankle, and blinked, glancing down; it had been on the left side...where Tifa was. She had gently kicked him. He looked up at her, and saw, for the barest of moments, the look of concern.  
  
She really was getting better about catching him, before thoughts like that spiraled too much. He shot her the briefest of grateful looks—the exchange took only a second or so, between the two of them—before each of them relaxed.  
  
Luckily, Zack’s thought process did not go down that same dark road, nor any adjacent one. Instead, he chuckled, and said: “Naw, Marlene’s too classy for me. I’ll just have to help her beat off the other boys.”  
  
Cloud was pretty sure he saw Marlene blush at that, even as she straightened primly in her seat. Tifa muttered something about “still a flirt, I see,” and rolled her eyes, but started slicing into the pie anyway. “Who wants the first piece?” she asked, a bit more loudly.

Plates were passed, and filled, and then happily began to be emptied. For a few blissful moments, all was quiet save for the sounds of pie-enjoyment.

But then Cloud noticed something odd, about Zack’s expression. He was frowning —just slightly, but frowning nonetheless— and his chewing slower.

“Zack?”  
  
“Hm?” he blinked and looked back up; clearly he’d been lost in thought.  
  
“Just wondering if you were okay,” Cloud said, unsure how else to broach the subject considering he didn’t know what was wrong.

“Oh, yeah,” Zack said, briefly waving the fork. “No, I’m fine, I just— it’s weird, but...this tastes kinda familiar, and...I’m not sure why. What kind of pie did you say this was?”  
  
“Apple,” Cloud said, his fork still poised with a bite over his plate. Though come to think of it… “The label should say. You want me to get the box?”  
  
“Would you?” Zack said; he actually sounded a bit relieved. “It’s kinda driving me nuts trying to figure out where I know it from. It’s...not _exactly_ the same as something I’ve had before, but similar? I dunno...and... it’s kinda _different_ , isn’t it? Or is that just me...”

“It _is_ kind of an unusual flavor,” Tifa agreed, after taking another, more pensive bite. “I _thought_ it was just added sweeteners or the spices at first, but you’re right— it tastes a little different than what I’m used to for apples.”  
  
“Maybe it’s because the mako reactors have been shutting down,” Denzel offered, after taking his own, more thoughtful bite. “That was one of the first side effects of mining it, wasn’t it? The crops started getting weaker and weaker? If the soil is recovering, maybe the plants are getting healthier.”  
  
“Yeah!” Marlene added excitedly, herself following the trend of trying a bite and trying to decipher the flavor. “Maybe...maybe this is what apples are _supposed_ to taste like! Maybe we’re the first people in a long time to taste them right!”  
  
Cloud chuckled at her enthusiasm, and noted: “Or it’s just a specific variety. Different versions of the same fruit can taste really different sometimes. Remember how there’s sour green apples?”  
  
“Oh yeaaah,” Marlene said. “That’s right! So maybe this is like those, but opposite?” She turned to Cloud, giving him a very serious looking pout. “You should get the box, Cloud! We won’t know unless we see the box, right?”

He couldn’t help but smile at how sternly serious she was taking _apples_ of all things. But on the other hand…

...on the other hand, if this was something that tasted _familiar_ , maybe it could help Zack recover some memories?  
  
It was definitely worth a shot, he thought.

Zack himself was almost finished —had only outer crust left— by the time Cloud came back with the box. Which indeed had a sticker indicating some special variety of apple had been used.

“Huh,” Cloud said holding the top of the box out in front of him so they could see it. “It’s definitely not a kind of I’ve seen before. Zack? What do you —”  
  
_oh shit,_ said a quiet little corner of his brain.

Zack definitely recognized it — at least Cloud could say that much.  
  
He swallowed, and knelt down slowly in front of him—if what he was pretty sure was happening, was happening, then it wouldn’t do to startle the former First Class. “Zack?” he said softly. “Zack—you still with us?”  
  
He had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t...

***

Zack had been increasingly bugged, from the first bite, by a nagging sense of familiarity with that fruit.  
  
A sense that hadn’t been helped much by the fact that there were other things in the pie—butter, sugar, who knew what kind of spices—interfering with the flavor, making it hard to pin down how much of it was familiarity, or a...false familiarity.  
  
_Never tasted it cooked before._  
  
—the thought occurred to him...no, _floated_ up to his consciousness, like it were bobbing to the surface.  From where, he didn’t know, but it felt like that nonetheless. And the thought had been very clear — very distinct:  
_  
__Never tasted it cooked before._  
  
...which was _maddening_ , because what, in the hell, was “ _it”_ in the first place!? Some kind of fruit, yes, allegedly apple, sure, but...it wasn’t  _just_ apple. It couldn’t be; some part of him rejected the very notion it was “ _just_ ” apple.  
  
That same part of him said that this wasn’t some curiosity; that this was...important, somehow.  
  
And he had no idea why.

Cloud’s suggestion of showing him the box—his clarification that _he_ didn’t think it was a regular old apple either—was a bit of a relief, honestly.  
  
Until he saw the sticker.  
  
That little, cheerful, round white sticker, complete with a picture of _disturbingly_ familiar object, and a name — a familiar name, an _old_ name, a name that _shouldn’t exist_ :

 _  
**Banora White** _  
  
  
  
Suddenly, he wasn’t sitting in Cloud’s and Tifa’s empty barroom. He wasn’t eating pie with an old friend, his kinda-sorta-maybe girlfriend, and two cute kids. And he _definitely_ wasn’t staring at a cutesy little sticker on a package of baked goods.

He was elsewhere, and it was _terrifying_.

There were no cartoonish renderings of purple fruit; only the sight of the real ones —living fruit, still flush with promise, still hanging ripe on the tree—catching fire. Burning with a sickly sweet odor. Turning to blackened ash, the tree that bore it crumpling rapidly and crashing to the ground in a smoking heap as flames leapt upwards and outwards, claiming it—claiming _everything_ …

 _  
...a village burning to the ground, with no one to stop it; no one intending to. Missiles whistling through the air_ — _the roar of aircraft engines underneath_ — _the heavy thwap thwap thwap of helicopter blades_ — _the impact of the bombs, a pressure, a heat on the skin even from that supposedly-safe distance_ — _first one and then another, and_ another _, overlapping, over and over until there was no hope of keeping count of how many had been fired, how many had hit—buildings that had stood for years, that had housed_ families _, once_ — _everything obliterated_ — _obliterated in a matter of seconds._ — _A whole village, gone in an instant; the landlords’ mansion turning to rubble, to dust, to nothing, as quickly and thoroughly as any other_ — _the orchards_ — _those rare and precious orchards, the only of their kind in the world, gone with all the rest._ — _Consumed by heat and fire and the force of sheer_ **_overkill and even the graves by the landlords’ house were disturbed, everything was, everything was nothing, was smashed and burned and crushed and_ ** —  
_  
“Zack,” someone said._  
  
_“We need to leave_ —Zack”  
  
  
“Zack? **Zack.** Zack! You still with me? Zack, _please_ , whatever it is, it’s not real, okay? Whatever it is, it’s not _here_ and it’s not _now_ , and...you’re safe. You’re okay; we all are, all right? It’s _safe_ , here. It’s _safe_ . You’re _safe,_ I promise...”

He blinked in surprise, noticing at last that there was a very concerned pair of softly-glowing blue eyes in front of him. Eyes framed by golden spi—  
  
_Cloud_ , he realized. _That’s Cloud…_

Then, a moment later:  
  
_That’s right...I’m...I’m here with Cloud. Cloud...he wasn’t there, when…_  
  
He shuddered, and swallowed past a very dry throat. He realized he was breathing hard and fast, and took a deep breath, and tried to let it out slowly...which wasn’t the least bit easy, but given the hammering in his chest, was probably still a good idea.

He felt something in him uncoil a little, as if every muscle in him had tensed—and maybe it had.  
  
He ducked his head, suddenly remembering both where he was, and that he had probably ruined dessert.  
  
“I...I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t...I don’t know what just—”  
  
“It’s okay,” Cloud said, placing a gentle hand on his arm; he felt both relieved —and guilty, to realize that Cloud was starting to relax as well. Meaning, he had a state from which he _had_ to relax.  
  
Because of _him,_ he knew, and felt both his eyes and his cheeks prickle with heat.

“Shh,” Cloud said, brushing that hand over his arm, back and forth; it felt nice, the way he did it. Soothing. His voice was low, but smooth. “It’s all right. It’s not your fault, okay? You just...had a flashback of some kind, I think. It happens. To a lot of people actually, to anybody who’s been through anything...rough enough. Happens to me, too, okay? Not as much lately,” he added quickly—having seen Zack’s face when he admitted that. “But it still happens once in a while, and...it’s absolutely _not_ your fault, okay? You hear me? It’s not your fault.”  
  
“Exactly,” came Tifa’s voice—tentative at first, but quickly gaining confidence. He turned to her, and saw her leaning forward, nodding, her face as certain as her tone. “It’s nothing _you_ did at all. It’s just the result of...whatever incident you were remembering. You know? The brain’s just...”  
  
“Sometimes it freaks out, when it doesn’t need to,” Marlene chimed in; he almost startled, having forgotten she was even there. He looked over his shoulder, to find her looking at him with the firmest, most determined expression he thought he’d ever seen on a child. “People’s brains, I mean. We learned about it in school last week,” she added, with the kind of authority only a child who has Learned Something In School Last Week can have. “Fear’s s’posed to protect us from getting hurt, right? But sometimes people feel it too easy or too fast or when they’re not s’posed to, but it’s not their fault, ‘cause it’s...'instinctive',” she said carefully. “Which means they can’t help it. There were s—” she paused. “Um, brain scientists and stuff. They talked to us about it.”  
  
“Huh,” Denzel said, considering her for a moment. “They took that long to get to that stuff for you guys? In our grade, they got to it like _months_ ago.”  
  
Tifa and Cloud stared at them for a moment, causing each of them to become ever so slightly defensive. “What? They did! That’s what they said,” Marlene declared, at almost the same time as Denzel noted: “Well, what? Of course they cover this stuff. Ever since Meteor, there’s been a ton of people with issues like that. He—um, heck,” he quickly corrected himself. “There were a bunch even before then, ‘cause of the old wars and…” He looked down. “Other stuff. You know.”  
  
He looked back up, more sure of himself. “Because of that stuff, and Meteor and all, there’s even kids our age that have that ‘PTSD’ thing. You know? So Reeve’s been having some of the experts from the WRO going ‘round to the schools doing all these presentations about it, on how you can, you know, you see the signs of when someone’s having a panic attack or...I forget the word, it begins with a ‘d’—”  
  
“...dissociating?” Cloud offered.  
  
“Yeah, that’s the one. Where they forget where they are for a minute,” Denzel nodded, bit his lip for a moment, and then turned to Zack. “That’s what happened, right? It looked a lot like what happens with Cloud sometimes, and that’s how they said it can look, so —”  
  
Cloud and Tifa shared a contemplative look.  
  
“Did you know Reeve was doing that kind of thing?” she asked.  
  
“No,” Cloud replied, but paused. “Well...sort of? Maybe? I remember him asking me if I’d be willing to do something to do with a ‘presentation’ on it for the WRO but...he didn’t mention it was for the schools.” He frowned, and added, muttering: “I might have actually returned the call if I’d known it was.”  
  
Zack barely had time to begin processing the fact that there had been so many awful things happening in so few years that there were so many people suffering like that, that an organization had taken it upon themselves to do presentations in schools for — what, eight year olds?—let alone enough time to even worry about what the hell could have caused _Cloud_ to have similar issues, because the front door of the bar opened.  
  
He wasn’t the only person to jump at the unexpected clatter — especially as there was, initially, no one visibly entering it.

Or, well, it had seemed that way until he heard Cloud snort: “Speak of the devil, huh?”, glanced over, saw the blond’s gaze tracking much further down, and followed it.  
  
This didn’t actually clear up any kind of confusion, though, as what had walked in the door was not a really short person, but in fact a cartoonish-looking, bipedal cat wearing white gloves. And a crown. For some reason.  
  
“The hell?” he murmured, forgetting there were children present. Though he didn’t bother repeating the phrase aloud, he definitely doubled down on it when the thing’s head swiveled over —revealing that half of it was a charred, sparking, half- _melted_ mess.  
  
“Cl-Cl-ouuud…” it said, before it fell over.


	8. Genesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epic confrontation!
> 
> ...or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Special thanks to [Juju](http://waifujuju.tumblr.com), [Bry](http://sawsbuckgo.tumblr.com), [Tobi](http://modeoheim.tumblr.com), and [Asreon](http://asreoninfusion.tumblr.com) for giving me a feel for how people might like this chapter, and extra-special thanks to both [TekkaWekka](http://tekka-wekka.tumblr.com) and [KittenFair](http://kittenfair.tumblr.com) for helping me to fine-tooth it before posting!)

“Cl-Clouuud…” the robot said, its voice strangely modulated, as if it were struggling to generate the sounds. It reached one wavering, sparking hand towards him, and Cloud rushed forward.  
  
“Cait...!” Cloud gasped — as did Tifa, Zack noted, with the latter shoving the children behind her even as she took a few tentative steps forward. Forward, and not back. Which given they knew its name, Zack took to mean that this was a friendly.  
  
“What happened!?” Tifa said. The robot seemed unable to respond, though, its mouth moving, but the vocalizations being too halting and distorted to be coherent. Cloud shushed it, checking it over for further damage, as she added: “I’ll get the Curaga. Hang on…” She dashed to behind the bar.  
  
Curaga? Zack seemed to recall that was the name of...a healing materia, right? The highest level, even. But…  
  
“Isn’t it a robot?” he muttered softly. How would a healing spell help a _robot_ ? He felt small hands gripping his pants and looked down to see Marlene hiding behind him, her eyes wide. Sharing a glance with Tifa across the bar, he nodded a silent agreement to her obvious worry — anything that could do that to a robot, could also do it to a human child; he quickly took one kid under each arm and pulled them into the back corner and behind him, ignoring the brief, half-hearted sound of complaint from Denzel.  
  
“He’s a special case,” Cloud replied worriedly, from his position on the floor next to the broken bot. Meanwhile, Tifa froze behind the bar, gaze fixed on something behind him.  
  
“Cloud…” she whispered, just before a new voice drawled:  
  
“I should say so.”  
  
All heads swiveled to the door, where a man with reddish-brown hair and a strange red and black coat leaned casually against the frame. The kind of “casually” that somehow, Zack knew, spoke of a silent threat.  

His back was to Zack, but something about the voice, the mannerisms of the intruder, set off a hundred different alarms inside him — like hearing the sound of a rattlesnake or the cocking of a gun. He could feel a headache starting to form behind his eyes, could feel the blood rushing in his ears again, and just barely clamped down on a panic reaction; forced himself to swallow, to even out his breathing. To focus on the two innocent kids trapped behind him.

He forced down a wave of dizziness, and stared at the back of the man’s head as he continued:  
  
“It’s certainly rare to find a mechanical thing that responds well to Cure spells, let alone is able to cast them, yet I certainly saw it cast at least one on _itself_ since it first ran into me; I must say, I compliment its casting ability. You should see what it looked like before.”  
  
“What do you want,” Cloud growled. Everything in Zack screamed at him to go to his side, but the hitched breathing of the kids behind him reminded him of why he wasn’t, yet.

“Yeah,” Tifa said. She slowly made her way around the bar, eyes never leaving the redhead. “I’d like to know that as well, considering you’re in _my_ bar, and just admitted to attacking one of _my_ friends.” Her words were laced with threat, and Zack was immediately reminded of how easily she had hefted the Buster Sword.

He couldn’t see the redhead’s face clearly, but he saw his head tilt, as if in thought. “Perhaps you’d like to explain why _your friend_ was spying on me, first?”  
  
At which point, small tones emitted from both Tifa’s and Cloud’s pockets.

After a pause, Cloud slowly reached into his, took out his phone, and flipped it open, glancing at the screen. Zack could barely see his face from where he was now, but he could tell somehow he had raised an eyebrow, before he looked back up, dryly commenting: “Maybe tell us why you tried to set the Church on _fire_ first, and we _might_ feel inclined to answer that.”  
  
The redhead stiffened at that, and shifted...uncomfortably?  
  
He coughed. “I.. _.may_ have briefly lost my temper,” he said, then defensively added: “And it wasn’t the _entire Church,_ for goodness’ sake, it was only _one pew..._ ”  
  
“Because you lost your temper,” Cloud repeated, his tone even dryer. “And you wonder why someone started keeping an eye on you?”  
  
“I had good reason to be furious!” the redhead insisted, though he still sounded a bit defensive. Zack could hear his leather gloves creak, as his hands clenched.  
  
The green light of a Cure spell lit up the barroom. “Which would be?” Tifa said, still not taking her eyes off him even as she cast the spell _and_ took a step forward — impressive, actually, if Zack remembered his materia right. Splitting your attention was difficult when casting, wasn’t it? That spoke of experience.

The redhead seemed to consider this for a moment. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Cloud, would it?”

“Maybe,” Cloud replied. “What of it?”  
  
“Then perhaps you would care to know,” the redhead said, swinging out of the doorway to face him directly. “That the memorial in the Church has been _desecrated_.”

The clearer sight of him set off him more alarm bells, and the scent of char in Zack’s nose felt even sharper, yet…

Somehow the tension radiating off everyone else in the room felt...lessened?  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“Memorial,” Cloud said slowly. “In the Church?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” the redhead said, derisive. “The memorial, in the Church. The one the Buster Sword was a part of? Key word: _was_. As it is currently _missing_.”

“Um,” said Tifa, though it seemed that she wasn’t sure where to go from there.  
  
Cloud sat back, a hint of amusement playing on his features, mixed with confusion. “And...you care...why?”  
  
“You mean to say you _don’t_!?” The redhead said, clearly indignant. “Was that not a memorial to _Zack Fair_? The man who saved your _life_?”  
  
“It...was,” Cloud said, frowning at him. “But how would you know that?”  
  
“Because I _knew him_ ,” the redhead hissed, to Zack’s surprise. “Because I’m not so stupid that I can’t recognize the world’s most distinctive sword! Because I’m not stupid enough not to ask who _put_ it there. And he deserves better than to have his memorial _stolen_ from!”

“I do?” Zack blurted out, too surprised at this revelation to remember that he was technically supposed to be stealthed, or at least not drawing potential fire.

The redhead paused, eyes wide, and slowly turned to face him. “...Zack," he said. "You’re...” Another long pause, followed by a frown. “I am...terribly confused.”

“You and me both,” Zack said. Because he remembered — not clearly, but clearly _enough_ — where he knew this man from:

The battlefield.  
  
He remembered having a Summon chucked at him by this man; remembered facing him in battle more than once, in fact. A name floated up from the depths:  
  
_Genesis._  
  
“Didn’t...you try to kill me?” He said, pointing out what seemed pretty obvious to him. “Like, more than once?”

Genesis looked briefly embarrassed at this, but waved it off. “That’s...that was all in the past,” he muttered. “I...somewhat owe you.” He paused, his voice softening. “For more than you can possibly realize…”  
  
He let out a breath, and then huffed: “Which still doesn’t explain... _things,_ ” he said, waving one hand. “Like why you had a _memorial_ in the first place if you’re not _dead_ , or where the Buster Sword actually _is_. Forgive me for jumping to a few perfectly logical conclusions!”

“Um,” Zack said, wondering where the hell to start.  
  
Tifa at least knew. “We thought he was,” she said. “And it’s...in a secure location, don’t worry.”  
  
“Secure location where!?” Genesis said, crossing his arms as he turned to her. Only to swing his gaze back to Zack a moment later. “And—what have you been _doing_ this whole time!? I understand laying low from Shinra, but afterward!? Why the hell didn’t you tell anybody you were alive!?”  
  
“I—whoa, hang on,” Zack said, holding up his hands.   

“He wasn’t in a position to,” Cloud said, in a tone that brooked no argument.  
  
Genesis turned back to him, giving a huff of frustration, but apparently giving up that line of thought. With a gesture, he added to the Cure effort on “Cait” — somehow, Zack got the feeling that was as close to a conciliatory gesture as they were going to get.

“Is the Church still on fire?” Cloud said.  
  
“No,” Genesis huffed. “Of course not. It was a controlled burst.”  
  
“You’re replacing the pew,” Cloud said.

“What!? I don’t have —”  
  
“Allow me to clarify: _you are replacing the pew_ , which _you_ set on fire, for what turns out to be an unnecessary reason.”  
  
A long moment of cranky faces followed by a snort nonetheless ended with: “Fine. But I don’t have access to any gil to pay for it right now.”  
  
“You have materia,” Cloud pointed out.

“I am _not_ selling my materia,” Genesis said firmly.

“And an able body,” Tifa noted.  
  
He rolled his eyes, but grunted another “ _Fine._ ”

On the floor, “Cait” sputtered back to more coherent life, muttering “Och! Close’un…” as it  —he? Cloud called it a “he”, right?— shook his head. Kind of like a real cat actually, complete with flapping ears. The lifelike motion and the strange accent almost made Zack double-take as much as the whole materia-healing thing.

Genesis snorted. “Well, that’s what you get for trying to sneak up on me.”  
  
“If ye say so,” Cait said, eyeing him warily. He hopped to his feet, though Zack couldn’t help but notice he hung back behind Cloud. Not that Zack could blame him. “Are ye dain settin' things on fire?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” Genesis snapped, rolling his eyes. “Can we move on already? After all...” He turned to Zack, adding: “We have some catching up to do, now don’t we?”

 


End file.
